Dork Squad, Assemble
by ShinyShiny9
Summary: Backstory for the characters from the Ninjago Movie, because nobody's gonna explain it if the fandom doesn't. Updates very infrequent; rating is high end of T for some heavier thematic content. Newest chapter: He's a modest man - but then, he has much to be modest about.
1. Jay and Cole: Bring the Beat Back

**Woot! Well. What the frick do I think I'm doing? The movie was months ago. XD**

 **So, The LEGO Ninjago Movie. It was . . . eh, it could have been better. Some of the biggest gripes I've heard (especially from people who weren't already Ninjago fans) is that the ninja besides Lloyd didn't get much characterization, and that there wasn't enough backstory.**

 **On the bright side, though, that means _we_ all get to write backstory!**

 **So here I go.**

* * *

When the final bell rang, Jay didn't even stop to pick up his backpack. He'd been needing the restroom for well over an hour by now, but what was he supposed to do, raise his hand and ask to be excused? In front of _everyone?_ And have all these kids _look at him_ as he stood up and walked out?

Oh gosh, no.

Afterwards he lurked around in the hallway, too embarrassed to go back into the classroom after such a hasty exit. He might not have minded so much if he knew everyone in the class, but this was only the first week of grade nine. He didn't know a living soul. Or, well, he knew everyone's names, and had already ranked his entire homeroom from most to least threatening, but he hadn't actually—you know. _Talked._

When the last student trotted out of the classroom, Jay breathed a sigh of relief and slipped in. Then he froze in the doorway. Ms. Minchem was still there tidying up, of course—that was fine. But not all the students had left after all. The one called Cole—the third most threatening on Jay's mental list—was still kicked back in his desk, lazily putting his pencils away. His head bobbed to some hidden beat coming through his giant red headphones.

Jay hesitated. Ms. Minchem was here. Nothing too bad could happen, right? And Cole had his back turned and his headphones on. No big deal.

After a moment Jay eased into the room and began to very softly pack up his things. He was good at being inconspicuous. Ms. Minchem glanced over and gave him a smile, and he beamed back.

He was almost done when the silence suddenly gave way to a deafening blast of music. It was a heavy rock piece whose chorus involved . . . um . . . some very unkind names. And it seemed to be coming from Cole's phone. What kind of a ringtone was _that?_

Cole had jumped just as violently as Jay, his feet swinging down from the desktop. He fumbled for his phone, clawing off his headphones with his other hand, a half-finished oath still caught on his lips. After he grabbed the phone, for a second he just stared at it, letting it keep blasting profanities and tortured guitar licks. Then he glanced up at Ms. Minchem, ducked his head, and answered.

"Hello?"

Jay finally remembered to close his mouth, but he still couldn't stop staring at the back of Cole's head. He'd never heard a less enthusiastic greeting. He'd caught on right away that Cole was the frosty sort, definitely a member of the "goth" subspecies, but right then Cole hadn't sounded frosty at all. He just sounded . . . really unhappy. Scared? Nooooo, he couldn't be scared. The guy had muscles like a tire mascot.

"Yes. I know." Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. Jay slowly, carefully resumed putting his stuff away. "No, I—no! I was in class, Dad!"

Jay froze by the doorway, startled. That was Cole's dad calling?

He looked again at Cole. The teen was hunched over his desk now, his free hand plastered to his forehead. His eyes were shut and his lower lip was sucked in, while the phone babbled some gibberish in his ear. How loud was the person on the other end of the line talking? They sounded . . . weird. Their voice seemed to slide up and down in pitch, like they were insane.

"No, Dad, I'm not. You know I can't answer the phone while I'm in school, it's not al—look, no. No! I'm going to study, all right? Look, I have to!" Cole sucked in his breath through his teeth. "Just _stop_."

He sounded almost pleading. Jay stayed by the door, motionless. All his wiser instincts were yelling to leave and pretend he'd seen nothing, and yet here he stood.

"Yeah. All right. Okay, Dad. I will, Dad. I _know_ , Dad." Cole held the phone away, stabbed the "end call" button, and muttered a final line that made Jay cringe. _Wow._

Expression dark, Cole started putting his phone away. Then he looked up and saw Ms. Minchem standing over him. For a second he stared up at her. Then his gaze dropped to the floor.

"Cole," she said. "You know we can't have strong language. Not from our devices, and especially not from our students."

Cole said nothing. Which Jay found surprising—Cole had never been short on snark.

"Do I need to give you detention?" said Ms. Minchem.

"I have to go to work." Cole didn't sound humble, exactly, but his voice was quiet and earnest. He was already edging out of his seat, as if that would convince Ms. Minchem he was already pardoned.

"Where do you work?" said Ms. Minchem. Cole's shoulders slumped, and Jay's heart bled on his behalf. She was gonna call his boss and tell him Cole couldn't come in today.

"Coraco's," mumbled Cole. He squirmed, looking up to meet Ms. Minchem's eyes. "I have to go, I'll get fired. I'll—I'll change my ringtone."

For a moment Ms. Minchem looked down at him tiredly. At last she sighed.

"Okay, Cole. You do that, all right? You can go."

Cole nodded tersely, already snatching for his backpack. As he turned to plow out of the room, he came face-to-face with Jay. The freckled teen froze, momentarily convinced this was his final living moment. He'd seen and heard way too much. There was no way a tough guy like Cole would let him live after witnessing . . . all of _that_.

But nothing happened. For a second Cole just looked at him, wearing the strangest expression. Then he brushed past and barged out the door.

Jay stared after him for a moment. Then he turned to give Ms. Minchem a weak, relieved smile.

"That was . . . weird, huh?"

Ms. Minchem shook her head, looking distant.

"He goes through enough," she said, mostly to herself. Jay glanced back at the door, thinking about the angry, slurring voice over the phone, the look on Cole's face as he'd left.

"Oh." Ms. Minchem's voice cut into his thoughts. "He left his headphones."

She bent to pick up Cole's cherry-red headset from the floor. Jay caught the glint of a scuffed brand logo on one earpiece. Those must have been pretty pricy . . .

"I could take them to him!" he blurted.

Dear lord.

 _Why had he said that?!_

* * *

Jay cursed whatever demons had possessed his tongue back in that classroom. Ms. Minchem had immediately handed him the headphones, and he'd been way too embarrassed to back out after that. Now he was standing in front of the nearby establishment called Coraco's, mentally listing out all the horrible things that could happen. This place looked like a club of some sort. It could be full of thugs. _Cole_ could be a thug. He was probably absolutely furious about Jay seeing that weird incident in the classroom, he would kill him on sight!

Swallowing, Jay resolved to hold out the headphones the second Cole spotted him. Maybe if he led with a tribute his life would be spared.

Squaring his shoulders, he plunged in. The entryway was dark, and for a moment he stumbled, blind.

"Ey," said a deep voice.

Jay's head snapped around. As his eyes adjusted he began to make out the dim form of a giant man, sitting behind a concierge desk. His bald head glowed in the murk, and he seemed to be wearing a worn-out suit over his excessive mounds of muscles. Jay froze, breathing shallowly.

"You got a problem?" rumbled the (presumed) bouncer.

Jay shook his head silently, his tongue cleaved to his palate. Distantly he realized he should at least hold up the headphones as _some_ form of excuse, but the message got lost somewhere between his brain and his arm. His feet, however, were already in charge of the situation, and he found himself backing down the hallway at a fantastic pace. He wanted to say "um," but his back had already hit a door and he'd already pushed on through.

It took him a second to pull out of "escape the bouncer" mode. When he did, he realized the room around him was shaking with loud music. It was dark here too, but colored lights flashed disconcertingly from every side, making it hard to adjust his eyes. Everywhere there was motion. People were hopping and flailing as far as the eye could see.

Jay clutched the headphone band in both hands. He tried to tell himself that the sooner he found Cole, the sooner he could leave here with a clean conscience. How did people do this in the movies again?

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"Cole?" he tried to shout.

It was pathetic, really. He was pretty sure he didn't even hear himself.

As he looked around, wondering if a dose of spare courage might be floating nearby like a power-up, someone jammed an elbow into his shoulder. He jumped forward, startled, and turned around stammering an apology for being in the way. To his discomfiture, all he could see was a knot of dancing people, with no sign of who had elbowed him.

Before he could process this, someone else brushed up against his shoulder. Again he shied away, only to bump against yet another person, awkardly knocking hips. The situation only deteriorated; the more he dodged the deeper he worked himself into the dancefloor, and the more people knocked against him.

"Hey," he stammered. "Excuse me? Sorry! Um, hello?"

How did _anyone_ make themselves heard in here?

Eventually he resigned himself to just sidestepping awkwardly, trying to get bumped as little as possible, and looking around despairingly for some gap to escape through. Nothing opened up. He chewed his lip, wondering if he'd be stuck here till closing time. When did places like this usually close up, two AM? Three? Peachy.

Suddenly he did see a gap in the movement—but not the type of gap he'd been looking for. Cole had materialized in front of him, statue-still against the background of flailing forms. He squinted.

"Aren't you in my class?"

He seemed to barely be raising his voice, yet it cut right through the music and the tromping of dancers. Jay was too addled to wonder how he did that. He could only blink in overwhelmed silence.

Cole squinted at him a moment more, his eyes shifting between Jay and the surrounding chaos. Then he seized Jay's wrist and began to pull him across the dancefloor, blandly plowing a path through the club patrons. Within seconds the press of bodies gave way and Jay could catch his breath again. He panted, fighting back the last of the lingering queasy panic.

"What are you doing in here?" Cole turned back and folded his arms, clearly unimpressed.

"I . . . " Jay was still recovering. "Um, I, I, I—"

He finally just shoved the headphones out to arm's length. Cole's eyebrows popped up.

"Hey! How did you—"

Jay realized all at once what this must look like.

"I—I didn't steal them!" he yelped, eyes widening. "I—you—n-no—"

Digging a hand into his hair, he struggled to even out his panicky breathing. Come on. He was off the dancefloor, nobody was jostling him anymore. All he needed to do was calm down enough to coherently explain, just calm down, and fast, before Cole decided to punch his lights out—

—This wasn't working.

Meanwhile Cole stared at him blankly. After a moment he turned his attention to the headphones, taking them from Jay and reverently wrapping the cord around the ear pieces.

"Right," he said, seemingly to himself. "I left 'em behind, didn't I?"

Jay breathed a massive sigh of relief. He went stiff again as Cole's gaze lifted to him, but the other teen only nodded tersely, tucking the headphones under his arm. Jay waited, wondering if he was going to say thank you. He didn't. Well, not unexpected.

The lack of conversation got awkward. Jay shuffled, half-turning away.

"I, uh—I'll be . . . um . . . " He stopped and looked at the dancefloor for a moment. Then he ventured to look sidewise at Cole.

" . . . I-is there maybe another way out of here?"

Cole shook his head.

"We'll have a break in the dancing after an hour, though." Jay's dismay must have showed on his face, because Cole unexpectedly cracked a dry half-smile.

"Ah, but you can stay with me till then."

* * *

Jay didn't complain when Cole dragged him off to the side of the room, thinking they were going into the kitchen to do some dishwashing, or waitering, or something. Cole, however, abruptly made a sharp left. To his shock, Jay found himself being pulled over to the vacant DJ station in the room's corner. Against every expectation, Cole let go of his arm right next to it, then slid behind the double turntable.

"W-wait—you're the DJ?!" Jay couldn't keep the amazement out of his voice.

"Uh-huh. Stay outta my way, 'kay?" Cole's tone was absent, but not unkind. Jay looked at the continuing flurry of dancing going on nearby, then quickly stationed himself behind one of the giant speakers. Cole gave him a glance, so he smiled timidly, asking permission to stand here. Cole only elevated his eyebrows ambivalently and went back to fiddling with the bass balance. Hopefully that meant he didn't mind.

"This is . . . r-really cool," Jay managed after a few seconds of plucking up his courage.

"Ah, the pay's a joke," replied Cole. Jay cringed, wondering if he'd said something insulting.

"Equipment is clutch, though," continued Cole, and Jay relaxed again.

For a long time he stood silently off to the side, watching as Cole flipped records in and out and knocked their speeds or pitches up and down. Every motion looked lazy, casual, yet somehow they still happened incredibly fast. He was really an expert.

But the most interesting part was the way Cole's face changed. At school he always looked bored, way too chill, a little sleepy with his half-closed eyelids. Right now . . . well, all of that was still true. Except the corners of his mouth curved the other way.

Cole nodded slightly to the thud of the woofer, his ponytail swishing as he thumbed through his records box. He tugged out an EP, twirled it once over his wrist, then flicked it into place on the turntable. A new melody wove in behind the pounding beat. Cole tapped at the drumtrack, causing it to skip, then reached over and wiggled the melody record. Jay sucked in his breath excitedly as the turntable gave a beautiful classic _shicka-shicka-wow!_ , just like in the movies.

Cole must have noticed him fanboying off to the side. Abruptly he turned and nodded at the turntable.

"Hey, get over here."

Jay blinked, startled. After a moment he hesitantly sidled up to Cole, careful not to knock elbows. He tried to ignore the fact that he was no longer fully hidden from the swirling dance floor, and that _everyone_ could see him up here. Maybe they'd be looking at Cole instead?

"Try a scratch," said Cole, gesturing down at the records.

"Whaaa—me?!"

"Sure. It's not hard. Just wiggle it and let it go." Cole wobbled his wrist demonstratively.

Jay forgot all about the proximity of the dance floor. For a second he looked between Cole and the turntable. After a moment he began to reach for one of the records. His hand jerked back before he even made contact—he wasn't sure how much force a spinning record gave off.

Off to the side he saw Cole starting to roll his eyes. Spurred on, he set his teeth and managed to graze one finger onto the grooved vinyl surface, rushing straight to the wiggle and release.

Despite his timidity, it worked. It was a very sloppy one-syllable scratch, but it _worked_. As the music bounced onwards, Jay could only draw in a long, giddy gasp of delight. He felt like he'd just been granted superpowers.

Cole was laughing. Jay pulled back, blushing preemptively, but at last decided it might be all right. It seemed more like a "your enthusiasm is fun" laugh than a "geez, you're so weird" laugh. He hoped.

The hour slipped by quickly after that. Cole either ignored Jay and did his work, which suited Jay fine, or sometimes explained some buttons or let him pick a record—which, surprisingly, also suited Jay fine. He never felt _comfortable_ , exactly, but he almost began to get into the groove of the club, just a tiny bit. Towards the end he even swayed a little to the music.

Finally Cole pulled up the mike and announced it was time for a break. The dance floor rang with groans and even a few catcalls. Jay observed with awe how Cole didn't even seem to notice. He was so confident.

The house lights turned up. Jay swiveled his head around, shocked at how different everything suddenly looked. Today was just one shock after another, really.

"Arrrrgh, well." Cole was stretching and mopping his forehead. "Be with you in a minute, bro."

Jay nodded mutely, grateful that he wouldn't have to face the front-desk bouncer alone again.

Once Cole had locked up his records, he started to lead Jay along the edge of the room.

"Have fun?" he asked over his shoulder.

"M-hm." Jay nodded shyly. "Uhhh . . . th-thanks for letting me stay. U-up with you, I mean. The, uh—"

"Sure, sure, no problem." Cole waved a dismissive hand. As they headed for the exit, he clicked his tongue and leveled a finger sassily at the bouncer.

"Yo Moe; this one's with me, a'right?" he called, jerking his thumb at Jay.

"Hmmm. So he gets in on your ID card?" rumbled the bouncer.

"What ID card?" whooped Cole, and he and the bouncer laughed raucously. Jay looked between them, bewildered.

"ID card?" he asked, following Cole out into the afternoon sunshine.

"Ahh, in-joke." Cole was still chuckling. "You're too young to be in there."

"Eeep!" Jay shrank back, horrified. Oh NO. Oh no no no no no. This was horrible! What had he done?! He'd broken the LAW! He might go to JAIL! He might even—

"Geeez, relax. Coraco's is pretty clean, for a club. Just has a really sloppy vetting policy." Cole slouched back against a lamppost, digging into his pockets. "I mean, look at me. I'm underaged. They let me _work_ here."

"I—I—but—the police—" stammered Jay. He was already visualizing prison life.

"Nahhhhhh." Cole scoffed. "You're fine, man. Chill."

Jay sighed, wringing his hands as the panic slowly subsided. Cole worked here every day, right? If the police didn't catch that, they wouldn't catch the one time Jay showed up. _Right?_

He looked at Cole again, and was momentarily horrified to see him smoking a cigarette.

"Are you—!"

"Hmmmm?" Cole looked up lazily, blowing out a chalky gray streamer of smoke. Jay looked at him for a moment, his mouth open, then said nothing.

Maybe he had just exhausted his shock supply for the day, but he was amazed at how . . . well, how _little_ he felt. Here was this guy: muscly as all get-out, working illegally, smoking underaged, and yet Jay wasn't scared of him at all. He couldn't bring himself to judge. Honestly, though it terrified him to admit it, he was almost a little envious. He wished he could have half of that casual confidence, that unruffled conviction that the world was entirely under his control.

"Why do you come here?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think. He semi-panicked, trying to assess if that had been inappropriate to ask.

Cole only gave a short, humorless laugh.

"Because it's hard to find any other places that accept quote-unquote, 'child labor'." He shrugged. "And I mean, I do like the music."

"Oh." Jay had so many more questions now, but he didn't dare ask.

"I mean . . . " Cole fell silent. For the first time, he seemed to have just as much trouble with eye contact as Jay usually did. After a second he sighed sharply. "Well, you were there. After school today."

"Uhh—" Jay's eyes widened as he remembered that painful phone call. "Y-y-you mean your dad? He—he makes you—"

"No, he doesn't make me!" Cole interrupted. "He doesn't even _know_. In the afternoon I say I'm studying, and by the time I get home he doesn't even realize I'm there. Because—well—you _heard_ him."

He tossed down his cigarette stub and dedicated unnecessary attention to mashing it under his shoe. Jay gulped, struggling to find something to say. He was slowly piecing together some ideas about Cole's home life.

And it was bizarre. Just a second ago he'd been in awe of Cole's coolness, but now everything had flipped again and he didn't see a shred of it left. Cole just looked tired, and sad, and—and scared. Just as scared as he'd been in that classroom earlier. Just as scared as Jay felt every day.

"It . . . it's not your fault," he stammered, scrabbling for something reassuring, something to subtly show how much he appreciated Cole trusting him with this painful secret. "I, uh, I would want to get away too . . . "

Oh man, _great_ job with that.

Cole didn't seem offended. He shook his head, expression still dark.

"Sure, I'm getting away. _All_ the way away. As soon as I turn eighteen—" He jerked his head abstractly into the beyond. "And I'll change my name, get an apartment, start a record company, I dunno. And that old—" Jay cringed at the term "—can stay at home alone, and drink his worthless head off, and curse at someone _else_."

By the end of the sentence he was grinding each word out as if it were an accompaniment to a stabbing. Jay eyed the pavement under his feet, rubbing his hands uncomfortably. He could totally understand Cole's anger, but he didn't know how to respond to it.

"Ah, sorry man." Cole's voice was gentle again, just a little sheepish. "Little too edgy?"

"I-it's okay." Jay smiled shyly. He wished _so much_ that he could find the perfect comforting, inspiring thing to say, but before he could even start formulating, Cole had pushed off the lamppost and turned towards the door of Coraco's.

"Anyway, I've gotta get back to it. You gonna make it home okay?"

"Oh, uh—sure, yeah!" Jay fumbled for more words, but Cole was already giving him a wave and disappearing back into the dark doorway. Not wanting to stare weirdly after him, Jay hastily turned away.

For a moment he stood and scruffed up his hair, trying to process the day's avalanche of new experiences. Finally, disoriented as to the time, he pulled out his phone to check the clock. His heart seized up when he saw he'd missed a call from his mom. He always came home right after school, but now he was almost two hours late. If she'd been genuinely worried he'd have missed a lot more than one call, but he still felt guilty.

Hastily he dialed.

"Hello, Mom? Oh gosh, hi! I know, sorry Mom, I didn't hear the ringing. I was—uhh—I was listening to music. With a friend."

He glanced over his shoulder, anxious that Cole might be there listening. Was he even allowed to call Cole a friend? He'd had a few sorta-friends up through middle school, but they were all kids he'd met in first grade. Back then you made friends by plunking down next to someone in the sandbox. He had no clue about the protocols for friend-making in high school.

His mom was already gushing with excitement, though. As he listened to her rattling on about how wonderful it was that he'd made a friend already, he couldn't help a wistful smile. He was so lucky to have two great parents.

* * *

The next day at school, Jay could barely contain himself. He went through his usual fussy little routine, setting out his textbook and notebook and pencils, but all the while he was wondering what would happen when Cole arrived. Would he say hi? Would he just nod? What would be the properly cool way to respond?

Cole finally sauntered into the classroom, red headphones on and blasting. Without so much as a glance at anyone, he slouched into his usual desk and began to dump his stuff atop it.

Jay slumped. He tried to drown out his disappointment by scolding himself for being so naïve. Of course Cole wouldn't acknowledge him. They'd barely even spoken last night, he'd just lurked around while Cole did his job. He'd read wayyyyy too much into that last conversation—it was just a random vent, and he'd taken it for some kind of heart-to-heart confession. Psh. How dumb did you have to be, to think that was how you made friends?

The teacher called "all right, guys, let's get started!", and the hubbub of the classroom started to die down. Even as miserable as he felt, Jay still lifted his head dutifully to watch the lesson. He could stew in his shame later.

A flash of red moved in the corner of his eye, and inadvertently he looked towards it. Cole was pulling off his headphones—and just at that second he looked back and locked eyes with Jay. A second's pause; then Cole smirked. He flicked his gaze a few times between Jay and the headphones, then very deliberately put them away and shot Jay a good-natured "not this time!" glare. Then he faced front again.

Jay did the same, biting his lip and hoping wildly that his huge grin didn't show.

So, this was how you made friends.

* * *

 **A/N: Those two are gonna be great for each other. Cole's gonna sorta protect Jay a little, and Jay's gonna at least get those cigarettes away from him. I did see somewhere that Cole's supposed to be a diligent student, despite his devil-may-care attitude, and maybe Jay had something to do with that too . . .**


	2. Lloyd, Kai, Nya: Urge to Destroy

**Heeeeeeeeeeeere we go! Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Much appreciated. ^_^**

 **I've decided I'm gonna write more about Cole and Jay before they meet the others, too. But first, Kai, Nya, and Lloyd! Maybe I'll alternate backstory for both groups until both threads are done. Then a story bringing together all five of them. Then we'll add Zane to the mix. Ambitious, ain't I? :P**

 **Credit goes to Skylark Starflower for her idea about how Ninjago City managed before the ninja existed. ^_^**

* * *

She tried to shield him as long as she could. He was only a toddler; he didn't need to deal with the hate and suspicion that Koko herself sometimes faced, just for associating with the most evil man in Ninjago. She had taken him away from Garmadon for exactly this reason—so he wouldn't grow up evil—and if people started asking him questions or treating him as a villain, that would defeat the whole purpose. She took extra care to teach him about sharing, kindness, and good manners, so people wouldn't have anything to judge him by.

She couldn't maintain the charade for long, though. As soon as Lloyd and his peers developed conversation skills beyond the level of "Mine!" and "Horsie!", children started telling Lloyd uncharitable things. Their parents made it even worse.

"Why'd they go, Mama?" lisped Lloyd, tugging on Koko's sleeve. He looked sadly across the playground at a bunch of kids playing. He had approached them a minute ago, only for a swarm of mothers to rush over and hustle their children away in various directions, expressions grim. There had been some stern, hushed lectures all around, and now all the kids were staying as far away from Lloyd as possible. Now and then some of them would stop to sneak him looks of horrified awe.

Koko bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Her poor son.

"It's complicated, little mister." She scooped him up to carry him home. "Let's go back home, okay? I'll explain when we get there."

She tried to put it in terms a four-year-old would understand, and wouldn't internalize. She explained how the bad man he always saw on the television was actually his father. Lloyd thought he was scary, right? Everyone else did too. And so they thought Lloyd must be scary.

"They're scared of me?" Lloyd lifted troubled eyes to meet Koko's. "How do I make them stop?"

"Try to show them you're good, sweetie," said Koko. "You're a very good, kind person. You have to let them see that."

"And then they'll stop running away from me?"

Koko sighed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't give Lloyd false hope.

"I . . . I don't know for sure, Lloyd. Some people might still be scared. But if you don't give them anything to be scared of, some of them might stop. You just have to keep trying. Do you understand that?"

Lloyd nodded silently. He did understand—maybe a little too well.

For a while he tried to convince the other kids he wasn't scary. He watched the things Garmadon did on the TV news, and he tried very hard to do the exact opposite whenever he approached someone. He tried to straight-up tell them he was good and wouldn't hurt them.

None of it worked. Day after day, Lloyd watched children flee or get pulled away from him, their eyes wide and frightened. He understood now that they were scared. He hadn't done anything, yet somehow they were scared. He got it into his head that he must be intrinsically terrifying, somehow.

He kept watching his father on the news. He noticed how Garmadon never seemed sad. Uncle Wu chased him away every time he attacked, but Garmadon never seemed to mind. He was always laughing (four-year-olds had a poor understanding of "maniacal"), and he had a whole bunch of friends who helped him all the time (four-year-olds didn't understand "minions" so well either). Sure, people were scared of him, but he was clearly having a happier life than Lloyd was. Lloyd brought this up to Koko a few times, but she always seemed to get very worried and would spend a long time telling him that Garmadon wasn't _really_ happy and he mustn't think like that.

He didn't want to make his mother sad, so he stopped talking about Garmadon. But he kept watching the news intently every time there was an attack. Being good clearly wasn't working; he would have to find some happiness another way.

* * *

So that was how Lloyd came to destroy Ninjago City one morning. Not the real one, of course. A serviceable representation he'd built in the backyard.

Calling it a "backyard" might have been a bit generous. The apartment building surrounded a small courtyard, the only scrap of unpaved ground for at least a mile around. There was no grass, just some weeds gasping for life in the limited sunlight. There was a crumbling attempt at a paved walkway off to one side. Then there was the corner with the broken glass, but Lloyd knew not to go there.

But off in another corner there was a garden hose, left by the overambitious first landlord, who'd thought he could have flowerbeds. It often leaked, so the ground around it was damp and perfect for building. Thus, the morning shade found Lloyd standing over a collection of bucket-molded skyscrapers, puffing out his tiny chest.

"Fear me, Ninjago City!" he shouted. "Are you ready to meetcher DOOM?"

Ninjago City made no reply, so Lloyd kicked over the nearest skyscraper. He felt a surge of satisfaction watching the dirt fly.

"Take that!" he growled, and stomped on another skyscraper. "And that! And that! And THAT! Moohoohahaha!"

He continued to rampage through the city like a little blond Godzilla, swept up in a blind frothing lust for destruction. Finally he stumbled his way to a halt, panting, and looked with satisfaction at the trampled dirt all around.

"I betcha learned your lesson, Ninjago City!" he shouted breathlessly, shaking his fist. "That'll teach you!"

Sighing contentedly, he plopped to his knees and reached for his cracked plastic sand bucket so he could start all over again. As his hand closed around the pail's handle, however, he realized that a pair of feet were right behind it. For a second he blinked. Then he slowly lifted his eyes to see who the feet belonged to.

He didn't have to lift them far. Another kid, just about Lloyd's age, was standing there watching him.

Reflexively Lloyd shrank back, clutching his pail protectively to his chest. He sized up the newcomer. Soft brown eyes, messy brown hair. It stuck up oddly atop his head. His hands were sunk in the pockets of a red jacket, and he was looking at Lloyd with a deeply judgmental expression.

"You're really bad at this," he said.

Lloyd's mouth fell open. Before he could retort, a second kid popped out from behind the first. This one was a girl, a little shorter, with cropped black hair that had clearly fought a comb and won.

"I'm Nya," she said. "This is Kai. Whatcher name?"

Well, this was unorthodox. Whatever happened to that whole "intrinsically terrifying" thing?

Lloyd reanimated and shook his head hard.

"Get out of my city!"

Nya scoffed.

"It's not your city."

"It is too! I conquered it, it's mine!"

"Nuh-uhhhhh." Instantly spiteful, Nya scooped up the nearest clod of earth and held it over her head. "See? Mine nowww!"

"No!" wailed Lloyd. He considered hitting Nya to get her to drop that fragment of the Greater Ninjago Bank, but his mom's lessons about hitting stuck a little too well. He resorted to throwing down his pail and stamping his foot.

"Put it down! I'm the supervillain and it's my city!"

"Oh yeah? Well, we're supervillains too, and we say it's ours," said Kai. Nya would probably have backed him up, but she was off to the side coughing and spluttering after the clod of dirt fell apart in her hands. Lloyd scrabbled for political purchase.

"I—I was here first!"

"Yeah, but there's two of us, and we're better." Kai folded his arms.

"No you're not!"

"Yeah?" Kai raised his eyebrows. "Prove it."

Lloyd tensed, all het up to do just that—but then realized he had no idea _how_ he was supposed to prove it. He looked at Kai blankly.

"Well?" The youngster spread his hands impatiently. "Come on, hit me!"

Lloyd's eyes went wide. Nya, by now recovered, bounced up and down squealing "fight fight fight fight!" Kai put up his fists and stepped one foot back, bracing for impact and watching Lloyd expectantly.

Lloyd stared, his breath quickening as his internal struggle intensified. Half of him wanted to punch this kid all the way to the next block; the other half of him recoiled at the thought. He twitched, trying to draw back one fist, then faltered, gave up, and lowered his gaze to the ground in shame.

"I'm not supposed to hit," he said, his voice small.

Kai made an aggravated noise, rolling his eyes in dismay.

"You can't even hit people? What kind of villain are you?"

That tore it. With a sudden burst of rage, Lloyd wound up and hurled himself at Kai, both fists leading. A second later Kai was sprawled back in the dirt, looking supremely startled. Lloyd stood over him, fists still clenched, eyes wide in shock just about equal to Kai's. Deep in his gut a primal bloodlust was stirring, screaming to throw himself at his enemy, pummel him while he was down, beat him senseless. In a dark, beguiling voice it hissed promises of power, catharsis, the sweet taste of a victim's fear and pain. Just let it out. Let it feed. At the same time a voice in Lloyd's head was screeching in terror, _nonono_ , he was bad, he was horrible, how could he do this, how could he want this, he had disobeyed his mother, he had made Kai scared, he was a monster—and for the briefest moment he realized that if he listened to the dark voice, if he unleashed it on Kai—it would next turn around and consume _him_.

It was all a bit much for a four-year-old. The sum total was that he stared blankly at Kai for a long moment, then abruptly started to cry. He was terrified of the battling voices, terrified of _himself_. This wasn't how villainy was supposed to work, he wasn't supposed to feel so sick and scared.

Kai, unaware of Lloyd's internal maelstrom, sat up and fixed his small attacker with a puzzled look.

" _You_ hit _me,_ " he said, pointing to the corresponding individuals. Did this kid not understand how _anything_ worked? If anyone was supposed to be crying now it was Kai.

Lloyd only scrubbed at his eyes with dirty hands, too miserable to respond. Kai stared at him for a while more, then finally decided he could forgive this poor confused kid for hogging both roles in the villainy game.

"Hey, don't cry." He stood up and went to pat Lloyd's shoulder. When that didn't work he hugged him earnestly. "You're not supposed to cry, that's _my_ job."

Lloyd could only keep sobbing. He didn't know if it was from guilt about hitting Kai, lingering fear at the violent urges he'd just experienced, or dismay that being a villain was so painful. Probably some mix of all three. Kai, meanwhile, had his own interpretation.

"You don't _have_ to be a good villain," he said soothingly, keeping his arms around Lloyd. "It's okay. You can still play with us."

"I'm the villain," Lloyd choked doggedly. He wished it wasn't true, but he knew it had to be. Kai needed to understand this.

Kai didn't. He only gave a weary sigh.

"No, you can't be the villain. Nya can be the villain, okay? She's scary. You can be Sensei Wu and save everybody. Or I'll be Wu and you can be my sidekick."

Lloyd lifted his head and blinked at Kai through teary eyes. For a second he wanted to explain the whole dad situation, because Kai needed to understand that he didn't have a _choice_ here.

But FSM, it was so tempting. Just to believe Kai. Run away from his destiny. Never have to feel that terrifying internal war again. He wanted it _so much_.

Finally he caved and nodded, sniffling. A tiny shred of shame at his own cowardice was quickly drowned out by relief.

"Good." Kai gave him a final squeeze. "I get to be Wu first."

Without further comment he picked up Lloyd's bucket and began rebuilding Ninjago City. Lloyd sniffled a final few times and looked askance at Nya, wondering if she agreed with her brother.

"Are you sure I'm a bad villain?" he asked. "I hit him and everything."

Nya gave him a look of the deepest pity.

"I've hit Kai a lot harder than that."

* * *

Later that evening Koko headed down the stairs to the courtyard, surprised that she had to call Lloyd up for dinner. Usually he needed no reminding.

Right at the top of the stairs, she met Lloyd coming up. At least, she assumed it was Lloyd. He was so coated with mud it was hard to tell.

"Lloyd?!" She didn't know if she should smile or be dismayed. "What happened to you?"

"We were playing, Mama!" Lloyd beamed.

"We? You and who?"

"Kai and Nya!"

Now Koko did break into a smile. She hoped Lloyd couldn't see the tears that sprang to her eyes. _Finally_ , her son had found someone who accepted him. If only for a little while. If only until the next rejection. She prayed it wouldn't happen soon.

Meanwhile Lloyd, dripping mud, attempted to head down the hallway to their apartment. Koko hastily stuck out a hand to stop him.

"Woahhhh woah woah, little mister," she said. "I don't think you should go inside right now."

"But I got dirty, Mama!" Lloyd held up his hands demonstratively, because _clearly_ Koko must not have noticed.

"I know, sweetie. But you're tracking mud indoors."

Lloyd looked down at his feet, then down the long hallway to the apartment, then up at Koko with despair.

"But how'm I gonna wash?"

"Did you use the hose outside?" asked Koko gently.

Lloyd paused, processing.

"Ohhhhh . . . "

Without another word he turned and squished back down the stairs, heading for the courtyard again. Koko looked at the double trail of muddy footprints and sighed, hoping the landlord wouldn't know who was responsible. As she headed downstairs to make sure Lloyd rinsed off thoroughly, she heard a distant scream and splashing, followed by peals of giggles. Apparently Kai and Nya had been sent outside to clean up too.

* * *

It wasn't long before half of the apartment building was calling Kai, Nya, and Lloyd "the triple threat." (The other half probably had some stronger names they didn't use in public.) The three of them were inseperable. They would play tag and hide-and-seek across the entire apartment complex, squealing and screaming and running around like possessed cats. They attempted to ride cookies sheets down the stairs. When an uncle gave Kai and Nya roller skates for their birthday, all three of them would take turns clomp-walking clumsily around the yard, purposely falling down so they could laugh uproariously about it. Every time it rained they were absolutely obligated to go outside and stomp in puddles until the yard was full of four-year-old foot-sized craters. A couple windows got balls kicked through them.

Their parents took the shenanigans in stride, and grew to be great friends themselves. Mrs. Smith and Koko's jobs had different hours, and Mr. Smith's job-hunting schedule was flexible, so between the three of them there was always someone to supervise the kiddos. They all had a lot of stress in their lives, so they enjoyed being able to get together sometimes to have coffee and laugh about the kids unspooling rolls of toilet paper out the fourth-floor window to find out how long they were.

Everything went fine for a while. The turning point came when Lloyd approached Mrs. Smith one day, asking if he could use her sewing kit. Mrs. Smith was busy working from home, so she handed the basket of supplies over without much resistance. She was about to ask what the kiddo wanted it for, but then she noticed a peculiar pink rash and scabs sprinkled over the backs of his hands.

"Woah, Lloyd buddy," she said, concerned. "What happened to your hands?"

"Huh?" Lloyd looked at his fingers. "Oh. Strawberries. I forgot an' ate some yesterday."

"Are you allergic?" Mrs. Smith was even more concerned now.

"They make me itchy." Lloyd disappeared out the door with the sewing kit, piping a thank-you over his shoulder. Mrs. Smith looked after him uneasily, wondering if she should get up and question him further. She didn't know about the extent of Lloyd's allergies, and she didn't want him suddenly going into anaphylactic shock on her. After a moment she decided it made better sense to ask his mom than to solicit medical information from a four-year-old.

She dialed Koko's work number. Somebody else picked up.

"Uh, hi," said Mrs. Smith, wondering if she'd dialed the wrong department. "Could I speak to Koko, please?"

"Koko?" The voice on the other end paused. "Ohhhh, you mean Misako Garmadon! Sure, one moment please."

"Wait, _what_ —" Mrs. Smith started forward in her chair, shocked. "Did you say Garmadon?!"

The other end of the line was already vacant. In the distance Mrs. Smith heard muffled office chatter.

She fell back, heart pounding. No. No, she must have misheard. That sweet, lively, infinitely loving woman could not _possibly_ be the wife of Ninjago's most infamous psychopath. The very idea was ludicrous. She had certainly misheard.

"Hello?" Koko's cheerful voice came over the line. "Who's this?"

"Ohhh, uh—" Mrs. Smith struggled to compose herself. After a moment she managed to get out a question about Lloyd's allergies. Koko assured her Lloyd only got itchy and there was no cause for concern.

"I'm sorry, you weren't too worried, were you?" she said. "You sound a little . . . "

Mrs. Smith bit her lip. Her heartrate shot up again as she thought about her two little babies, possibly playing with the spawn of darkness right in the next room. She gripped the receiver.

"No, just . . . " She drew in a long breath. "I, uh, don't think I've ever heard your last name, hon. I thought that other person said—"

"Oh." Koko's tone was so heavy that Mrs. Smith stopped in her tracks.

"You're . . . "

"Yes, his wife." Koko was subdued now, clearly pained. "I . . . I should have told you before, but I just . . . I haven't seen him in years, it's just me and Lloyd . . . "

"Lloyd is his son?" said Mrs. Smith thinly.

"Yes." Now there was a little force in Koko's tone. The protective maternal instincts were kicking in. "And I know that sounds bad, Maya. But you know Lloyd yourself. You know he's a good kid. You have nothing to be alarmed about, you know that."

Mrs. Smith barely heard her. Head spinning, she stretched the phone cord as far as it would go and slid her chair back to peer into the next room. She had a sudden compulsion to see what Lloyd was doing.

After a moment her expression softened, her panic slowly seeping away. Lloyd and Nya were plopped on the living room floor, bent over a ragged stuffed cat. The poor stuffie's stomach had been torn open in a fight between Kai and Nya, and now Lloyd was painstakingly trying to sew the tear shut. It said something about the goodness of Maya's heart that she found this innocent—he was using yarn and a finishing needle meant for knitting projects, approaching the length and thickness of a pencil. You could just as easily have taken the procedure for medieval torture.

"Maya?" Koko's voice came over the line. "Are you there?"

"Y—yeah," said Mrs. Smith distractedly.

"Is everything all right?" Koko still sounded guarded. "Should I come over?"

"I—" Mrs. Smith dug a hand into her hair, sighing. "If you could. Please."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," said Koko quietly, and hung up.

Mrs. Smith did the same, her head still spinning. She couldn't believe this was happening. Koko, Garmadon's wife. Lloyd, his _son_. She was already constructing all kinds of ways to excuse Koko—it must have been a deception, it must not have been her choice—because there was just no way she could lose trust for her upstairs neighbor. She'd had too many lunches with her, swapped too many recipes, fixed too many leaky sinks and loose floorboards. There was no way Koko could be bad.

But she no longer knew what to make of Lloyd. He was another matter altogether—he carried his father's genes. Half of him—a whole _half_ —was made of the darkest, fiercest, bloodthirstiest DNA ever to darken Ninjago's shores.

Standing up, she headed for the living room to check again.

Lloyd had just finished his labors. The stuffed cat now had a giant yarn seam holding shut the original tear, and two new tears already forming where Lloyd had forced the needle through. Still, Lloyd held up the savaged stuffie with a triumphant smile, and Nya enthusiastically hugged it. She seemed to consider this satisfactory healing.

Mrs. Smith stayed back, her teeth digging into her lower lip. She couldn't calm down, no matter how hard she tried. She thought back to everything she had seen of Lloyd. She couldn't remember him ever doing anything unquestionably bad, but suddenly all his hijinks with the twins seemed to take on a darker tone. What if that hadn't been innocent childish mischief after all? What if he was subtly leading her children down the path to evil?

Meanwhile Lloyd and Nya still didn't realize Mrs. Smith was there. Nya was already settling down to resume playing zoo, which involved feeding plastic vegetables to every stuffed animal in the house, especially the carnivores. Lloyd, however, was still standing. He tugged on Nya's sleeve and pointed to the nearest corner, where Kai was sulking because after the cat tore Nya had said it was his fault and kicked him.

Nya stuck out her lip petulantly. She'd never had much patience for Kai's tendency to sulk, and she was no fan of apologies. She got to work force-feeding carrots to a reluctant lion.

Lloyd went over to Kai instead, coaxing. Nya watched from the corner of her eye as Kai continued to shake his head firmly, refusing to rejoin the game. Lloyd was trying every possible tack, but nothing worked.

Finally Lloyd stepped back and gave Nya a pleading look. She hesitated for a moment, then sighed, got up, and stomped over. Tapping Kai gruffly on the shoulder, she stuck out the cat. Kai looked at it, then at Nya—she looked away grumpily—then finally snatched the cat and clutched it, accepting the peace offering.

He brightened up so quickly that Nya forgot she was angry herself. She accepted Kai's hug with equanimity and accompanied him back to the "zoo," where the alligators were on a strict bell-pepper diet.

Meanwhile Lloyd watched the reconciliation and beamed, unaware that he had just saved his own small hide.

* * *

 **A/N: This kid. I figure Kai and Nya's family must have moved in from outside of Ninjago, and that's why they didn't know they were supposed to fear Lloyd. By the time they found out, they knew him too well to turn on him. Besides, I wasn't about to put Lloyd through years of school without a single friend. Not cool.**

 **Anyway, more on those three later! Next chapter we'll return to DJ Rocko and Blue Fluffy. :P**


	3. J & C: Everybody's Looking for Something

**Drop top it's showtime! Showtime! Guess who's back again!**

 **Hehe. Ahhh, break. Churning out chapters wherever I can.**

 **This one's the second of three about Jay and Cole! These two got complicated. ^_^''**

 **And thank you sooooooo much to all the reviewers, including the very sweet guest reviewers asking for updates! Gave me that extra push to brush this chapter up and send it out. :)**

* * *

Cole was cool. Cold, even. When they were in school, he didn't talk to Jay much. He often pretended to ignore him. He didn't say goodbye or hello, most of the time, and if Jay tried to talk to him Cole would only give him a supercilious eyebrow raise, as if unsure why this stranger was bothering him.

But that was okay. Jay knew he would talk some other time, when he didn't have to keep up his front. He knew that for Cole, at school, it meant a whole _lot_ just to give someone a smile. And for Jay, Cole did smile. Often. And every single time Jay felt special beyond words.

Granted, he wasn't smiling much now, but that was to be expected.

"You're doing fine," said Jay, watching sympathetically. "Just think about something else."

"FSM, I _hate_ you," muttered Cole. He was obsessively gnawing on a toothpick, his third one in ten minutes. Jay had talked him into giving up cigarettes, and now Cole's fingernails were chewed down to the blood and he was consuming gummy bears in breathtaking quantities. He looked haggard.

"It'll pass." Jay folded his arms, leaning against the lamppost in front of Coraco's. "It'll be worth it. You don't wanna end up with emphysema like my grandma, do you?"

Cole made some questionable suggestions for activities Jay could do with his grandma. Immediately afterwards he flinched, catching Jay's pained look.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Jay shrugged. One battle at a time—language was his next planned area of improvement.

Cole paced. Destroyed another toothpick. After a few more frustrated circuits, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes he still refused to throw away, just in case. He glared at it for a moment.

Jay watched silently. Feeling his gaze, Cole looked up and glared at him instead. Then he glared at the cigarettes some more. He repeated this cycle a few times, visibly arguing with himself over whether to remove the temptation or give in to it.

Finally he settled on neither, stuffing the cigarettes back into his pocket. He gave Jay a final glare, then shook his head.

"I gotta get back to work."

"See you tomorrow," said Jay. He often came to hang out in front of Coraco's during Cole's break, but after that first time he never went inside again. Cole grunted, chugging past him to head inside.

After Cole disappeared, Jay sighed and sank his hands into his pockets. Friendship was complicated. Sometimes he questioned his own motives. Sometimes he worried that it was just some kind of power trip—that he liked feeling special, the only one Cole softened up for. Sometimes he worried Cole knew that and was actually using him. Sometimes he worried _he_ was using _Cole_ —he did feel much safer with the school's strongest guy on his side. But all of these were things you couldn't just ask about out loud, and so Jay could never quite be sure . . .

"Hey, Jay!"

Starting, he turned to find Cole poking his head out of the front door of Coraco's.

"I forgot, I have a day off tomorrow. Wanna come over after school?"

"Whaaa—" Jay's eyes widened. "To your place?!"

Cole nodded a little reluctantly.

"Yeahhhhh, I don't feel like being on my best behavior for your parents again." He shrugged, looking away. "I mean, if you feel like you wouldn't mind—you know—"

"Sure!" interrupted Jay. "Definitely!"

Cole raised his eyebrows, but then only nodded again and disappeared back into Coraco's. Jay processed for a moment, then allowed himself a hesitant grin.

* * *

The next afternoon Cole's cravings finally started to subside, so he was in a fairly good mood as he led Jay towards his home. Jay himself was in a proper tizzy—he'd always been curious to see where Cole lived. Gosh knew he'd been dropping enough pointed hints to lead up to this day.

"I hope you're not expecting much," said Cole from the front.

"I'm not!" said Jay, then blinked. That came out wrong. "Uhh—n-not too much. Um. I mean—"

Cole laughed quietly, and Jay dropped the subject, smiling. They were walking through narrow streets, crammed with shabby but dignified townhouses. Cole stopped and gestured at one. Jay sized it up, fascinated. A little more neglected than its neighbors, but you would never guess a raging alcoholic lived there.

"Is your dad—uh, is he gonna be home?" he ventured.

"Yeah." Cole tensed visibly and audibly. "Home and plastered."

"Oh." Jay looked down at the sidewalk while Cole fumbled wordlessly for his keys. He hesitated and glanced back to Jay.

"Are you scared?"

Jay shrugged.

"I'm always scared."

Cole looked at him for a second, then chuckled. He unlocked the front door and headed in, leaving it open for Jay to follow. As he walked in, Jay noticed from the corner of his eye how Cole's head immediately went down, like a nervous dog avoiding eye contact. Must be a defense mechanism. Well, he was certainly equipped to do the same.

The sound of uneven footsteps came from nearby. Cole tensed again.

"Let's go to my room," he murmured, every syllable stiff and anxious. "Maybe we can—"

Too late. A man appeared in the doorway at the far end of the hall. His feet were braced wide, his eyes were bloodshot and vacant, and the corners of his mouth were pulled down so far they left permanent creases running up to his nose. He looked like a smoked fish in a deli case. There was a glass of currant-colored liquid in his hand.

Oddly, Jay didn't feel that scared. He knew Cole was here, and he was sure Cole could protect him if the need arose. Besides, he was under no obligation to speak to this disheveled man—in fact, he was encouraged _not_ to. In a way, that actually made him less intimidating than the average human being. In Jay's humble opinion.

Meanwhile the man lurched forward a few unsteady steps, squinting at Jay.

"Hi, Dad," said Cole perfunctorily. He didn't make eye contact. "Brought a friend to study."

"Who's this?" The man's voice was slightly hysterical. "Why'd you bring him here?"

"To help me study." Cole used a voice of exaggerated patience. "We're going upstairs now, okay?"

"You study too much." As Cole kicked off his shoes, he motioned for Jay to do the same. Cole's dad rolled his eyes dramatically, the motion taking up his whole head. His voice cracked. "I always said not to worry about it. You pay too much attention to the stupid school system and their stupid questions. Why study? You just need to be able to _think_."

"Uh-huh," said Cole, his head still down.

"And now you're bringing _him_ in here." Cole's dad raised his voice. "For what? For what? So you can be a good little boy, and please your teachers, and get a good job with some assholes? Working for the man? Moron!"

"Okay, Dad." Cole's voice shook. Jay glanced from him to his dad, who was steadily lurching closer. He noticed with fascination how the man's eyes glittered, moist and crazy.

"Are you ignoring me?" Cole's dad all but shrieked. "Look at me, you little—"

"We have to go, Dad! Later!" Cole grabbed Jay's arm and yanked him down the hall, through a door. As soon as they were through it Cole shoved it closed, flipped the lock, and flipped the bird, glaring at the door's paneling as if he could see his dad through it. Jay made an inadvertant disapproving noise, but didn't scold Cole for the gesture. Now was not the time.

Cole turned towards the narrow staircase behind them, brushing lightly past Jay.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay." Jay followed him up the stairs. "You warned me."

Cole grunted. Jay knew that meant he wasn't angry—not with Jay, anyway—and hopefully wasn't feeling too ashamed either.

"Your dad tells you _not_ to study?" he said, as Cole opened the door to his room. "That's so weird."

"Ah, yeah. He hates the system." Cole rolled his eyes. "He hates everything."

Jay was going to reply, but then he got his first glimpse of Cole's room. He broke into a delighted smile. This place was _cool!_ And it was just what he'd have expected from Cole, too. The room was pretty small and did smell of cigarette smoke, but there were boxes of records everywhere. Every wall was lined with them. The window seat overflowed with them. Stacks stood by the foot of the bed, which was a plain mattress and boxspring set up directly on the floor, covered with an earth-toned comforter. A large radio stood at the other end of the room. Best of all, the walls and ceiling were covered with colorful shapes and squiggles, some of which Jay guessed were glow-in-the-dark. Too cool.

"Ta-da." Cole said it as sarcastically as he could. Tossing his backpack into the corner, he went to turn on the radio. "Well, make yourself at home."

"This is really awesome!" Jay turned around once, taking in every side of the room, then flopped happily back onto Cole's bed to study the ceiling. Then he froze, startled.

"Uhhhh . . . "

Cole turned around, then laughed. Jay lifted his head carefully, giving him a bewildered look.

"What's up with your bed?"

"Get offa there and I'll show you." Still chuckling, Cole came over and yanked back the comforter. Tugging aside the bedsheets, he stuck his hand right into a giant slit in the mattress fabric, then began to pull out bundle after bundle of paper money. He looked to Jay and grinned ear to ear when he saw the utter shock on his face.

"Not expecting that?" he asked.

Jay worked his jaw like a grouper, struggling to find an answer. His mind was racing. Where did Cole get all that money?! Did he knock down a gas station? Did he rob a bank? He couldn't have! Cole would _never_ —but what if he—what in the world was Jay supposed to do now?

"Is that . . . real money?" he finally managed.

"You bet it is." Cole stuffed the cash back into his mattress. Jay fumbled, wondering if it was inappropriate to ask where the money had come from.

Screw it, he had to know.

"How . . . " he began. "Where did you . . . "

Cole snorted and finally took mercy.

"I'm too young to have a bank account, genius. My job pays me in cash."

"Ohhhhhhhhhh." Jay deflated, relieved. Of course, why hadn't he thought of that?

"What, you thought I stole it?" said Cole.

"I—" Jay sputtered and went red.

"Really? I show you my stashed life savings and you take me for a _crook?_ " Cole folded his arms, faking indignation, then broke down and laughed. "Oh, you should see yourself right now."

"Sh—shut up," Jay managed, trying to glare.

"Sorry man." With a final chuckle, Cole punched his arm lightly and flopped back on the bed. "But yeah, life savings. I use the money to keep my music collection up-to-date, and by the time I'm eighteen I'll have enough saved to rent an apartment for years. It's gonna be great . . . "

"Wow." Jay sat down on the edge of the bed, hesitating. After a moment he decided to ask. "Don't the lumps make it uncomfortable?"

"Huh?" Cole broke out of his daydream, then snorted. "Aw, hell no. The lumpier it gets, the better I sleep."

* * *

Cole showed Jay around for a while, pointing out his few special possessions and playing a few of his favorite records. After almost an hour of casual chitchat, Jay looked up from a lyric sheet.

"So, um. When do we start to study?"

"Awww, geez." Cole, sprawled on the lumpy bed reading a music magazine, pulled off a pair of headphones. "Forget that."

"We have to at least do our homework," said Jay, adamant. Cole blew a dismissive raspberry.

"I'll do it in the morning."

Jay leaned back on his hands, weighing his next move. Cole pretended to keep reading the magazine, but he eyed Jay occasionally, knowing the inquisition wasn't done.

"You don't have to listen to your dad, you know," said Jay at length. "He—he doesn't know anythin'."

"I _know_ that. It's not him," said Cole, groaning and rolling onto his back. "I just don't wanna. I already have my whole future worked out, Jay. I'm gonna work in music. I don't need to do well in school for that."

"But—but if you do well in school, you could prove your dad wrong," said Jay. "You could be smarter than him."

"Nnnnnnnuh." Cole rolled his eyes petulantly. "Too much work. Not enough payout."

Jay buffered for a moment.

"So then I guess you're okay with it if _I'm_ smarter," he said at last. With anyone else he would never have dared in a million years—he had never teased anyone before in his life—but with Cole he was slowly trying to learn.

Cole sat up and gave Jay a look of mixed chagrin and delight.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said, leveling an accusing finger. "And you know what? Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay with not being a _nerd_."

Jay twitched, ecstatic. Then he hastily scrabbled for a comeback.

"Well, it's still better than being a—a—aaaaa . . . " He fumbled, unable to commit. Suddenly Cole's pillow smacked into his head.

"Awww, the poor nerd can't come up with any burns?" sang Cole.

"That's 'cos all my brain space got used up with other stuff!" Jay hesitated, then threw the pillow back.

"'Brain space'?" Cole choked with laughter. "Are you five?"

"I'm ten out of ten," blurted Jay, doused in a sudden burst of adrenaline. "And you're—uh—two point three!"

"Ohhhhh, _yeah?_ " Diving off the bed, Cole tackled Jay to the floor and smothered him with the pillow. Jay squirmed for a second, then began to kick furiously, panicking at the lack of air.

"Hey, woah, easy, easy!" Cole pulled the pillow away and immediately sobered when he caught Jay's terrified expression. "Woah, _relax_."

Jay blinked for a second at Cole's now-concerned face. Then he shook his head hard, pulling himself together. Way to kill the mood!

"I wasn't gonna hurtcha," said Cole.

"I _know_ ," said Jay, furious with himself. Awwww, just when they'd started having fun! Why'd he have to be such a wimp?

Cole tossed the pillow back to his bed, subdued now. After a moment's thought he reached out and kicked at an outlet strip by the wall. Jay gasped as the room's lights went out, to be replaced by an eerie purple glow coming from a tubular bulb near the radio. The colorful shapes on the walls and ceiling lit up in fluorescent hues.

"Woah!" Jay lay back down to take in the patterns on the ceiling.

"Blacklight," said Cole, flopping down next to him with his hands tucked behind his head. Jay grinned.

"Your room is _so_ cool."

"Ahh." Cole shrugged. "Gotta make it livable somehow."

Jay hummed, understanding. For a little while they didn't talk. Eventually Cole looked over and kicked Jay lightly in the shin.

"Okay, nerd, where's your math textbook. I guess I don't have to _just_ be the good-looking one."

Jay pulled the pillow off Cole's bed and clobbered him with it.

* * *

One day, before gym class, Cole pulled Jay aside. Jay was startled that he was initiating contact, and even more startled when he saw Cole wearing the same tight, subtly anxious expression _Jay_ usually wore in gym class.

"What's going on?" he asked. Cole pulled him into a secluded corner of the men's locker room.

"Jay, you need to distract Coach Billings."

"Wh-what?" Jay's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Nothing! Just—just keep him busy, okay?" Cole's eyes bored into him as if he were attempting mind control. "Just for a few minutes."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing!"

Jay looked around, weighing his options. Cole had always nagged him to start sticking up for himself—well, time to make him regret that.

"First tell me." Jay stood up straighter and pulled back his shoulders. "I won't help you till I know what's going on."

"I—"

"No! First tell me."

For a moment Cole glared at him helplessly. Then he growled, looked around, and pulled up the front of his shirt. Jay's breath stopped. Cole's side was a patchwork of dark, irregular bruises.

" _Cole,_ " he whispered. "You—"

"It's not important," said Cole, dropping his shirt hem. "Just distract Coach Billings, okay?"

"I—you—" Jay's head was spinning, and he felt a sudden urge to throw up. Cole's dad had hit him. Beaten him. His friend wasn't just miserable now, he was _hurt_. He was in _danger._

"You need to tell someone," he whispered.

"No!" Cole grabbed him by the shoulders. "Nobody can know. Don't you _dare_ tell anyone. Do you hear me?!"

Jay stared at him, mute.

"Just distract Coach," said Cole. When Jay still didn't reply, Cole's grip tightened, his desperate eyes locked onto Jay's. The only thing he didn't do was plead out loud, and that would have been a redundancy. Jay tried to swallow away the dryness in his mouth.

"Okay," he breathed.

He went and asked Coach Billings about some dribbling technique he'd been struggling with. It wasn't the first time he'd asked for tips, so the coach never suspected a thing. After PE Cole hung out on the court till everyone else was gone. Jay waited.

"Cole." He apprehended the other teen on his way out. "Wait."

Cole turned around to face him, wearing a smile that seemed just a little too even.

"Thanks for helping out," he said. His voice was just a little too firm—he was trying to end this conversation.

Not a chance. Jay grabbed his arm.

"You have to tell someone," he said, his voice low.

"No, it's fine." Cole set his jaw. "It was my fault, I opened up my big mouth last night. It won't happen again."

"You could _die_ ," hissed Jay.

"I'll be fine!" Cole yanked his arm out of Jay's grip. "I can defend myself!"

"No. No, you need to get out of there. You need to tell someone. They can help."

"They can _help?_ " Out of nowhere Cole grabbed both of Jay's arms. He swiveled him around and pushed him back against a row of lockers. "Lemme tell you how they'll _help._ They'll call child protective services. Someone's gonna come to my house asking a bunch of questions. Then they'll put me in foster care!"

"Good!" snapped Jay, struggling against Cole's hold. He had quite the iron grip. A locker handle was digging really hard into Jay's back right now.

" _Not good_ , idiot," said Cole. "They'll take away my job. They'll take away all my savings. All the years of work, Jay! Gone!"

"It's not worth it!" Jay glared. "If you don't tell anyone, I will!"

"Don't. You. Dare." Cole's hands tightened so much Jay swore he felt something crack. "I am _this_ close to freedom. I am _this_ close to working my way out of there. I'm winning it on my own. If you think I'll let you take that away from me—"

He was leaning closer as he spoke, his eyes hard, his voice lowering to a threatening scrape. For the first time in months Jay was scared of him. He swallowed.

"I won't cover for you again," he whispered, closing his eyes and praying the tears he felt weren't visible. "You can't make me do that. I won't."

Silence for a moment. Then suddenly Cole's grip on his shoulders disappeared. To his everlasting shame Jay only cringed, waiting for Cole to hit him. He never did, though. Jay opened his eyes to find him gone.

"Wait—"

The locker room door slammed.

* * *

As luck would have it, that had been a Friday. Over the weekend Jay stewed and fried, wondering what he should do. During some particularly ambitious moments he considered going over to Cole's house to talk it over, but then he remembered he'd probably have to get past Cole's dad first. And even if he did, what in the world would he say to Cole after that?

He didn't even know what to tell _himself_ anymore. Sometimes he thought he must be a terrible friend—all this time he'd been seeing Cole as protection against bullies, yet now Cole asked for protection and Jay refused. In those moments he'd feel like absolute scum. Then eventually he'd work around to thinking Cole was crazy, claiming that Jay could _protect_ him by leaving him to get beaten by his drunken father. At those points Jay would start feeling aimlessly, helplessly angry.

And then he always worked around to the thought that Cole was probably at home, right now, maybe getting beaten. That's when he always started feeling scared.

His parents noticed his mood. He had never kept any secrets from them before, but he did now. He only said he'd had a fight with Cole and he was sure they'd sort it out on Monday. He could see the traces of anxiety on their faces—although Cole always did his best while visiting Jay's home, the rough edges still showed—but they didn't say anything out loud.

Monday arrived. Jay ate the equivalent of two breakfasts. Even as he walked to school he chewed on a granola bar, trying to soothe his jumping stomach.

He saw Cole in class, as usual. Cole didn't say anything, or even acknowledge him—which technically was also usual. But now the silence felt different. It felt cold. Jay's cycle of conflicting thoughts ran faster and faster, until he started to worry that he'd lose his mind right here in this classroom, in the middle of Ancient Ninjagian History I.

Finally came gym class. Jay considered hiding in a broom closet till it was over. He paced back and forth in front of the mens' locker room, gnawing on his sleeve. Why couldn't he just man up already? Why couldn't he just go in there and solve his problems like an almost-adult? Why did he have to be such a _wimp?_

Eventually he noticed the knots of guys heading into the locker room were giving him strange looks as they passed. He realized he'd better decide if he was going in or making a run for it.

He was just about to choose the latter when Cole suddenly came past. He glanced at Jay for the briefest moment, but immediately slid his gaze away as if he were a stranger and stalked right by without a word.

Jay stood helplessly for a moment. Slowly his indecision drained away, leaving only a hollow, tired resignation. Now he knew there was only one thing he could do. He already knew he would be ashamed of himself for the rest of his life, but he couldn't stand to lose the only friend he had. He just couldn't.

Hanging his head, he pushed through the locker room door.

Inside the locker room it was noisy and chaotic, as teenagers dug for their gym clothes and swapped crude jokes, and coaches barked for them to settle down and hurry up. Jay skirted around everyone unseeingly, heading for one of the back corners.

Cole was there, sitting on a bench near a weights machine. He had already changed his pants, and now had one foot up on the weights machine's seat, reserving it for himself once he was done changing. Jay watched him fishing for his shirt. He'd always known Cole was into strength training, but he'd thought it was just something he enjoyed. Only now he realized it was probably for safety. So he could fight off a raging man with a stick.

Swallowing, Jay stepped forward. He had to offer now. Offer to distract Coach Billings again. Just spit the words out. Just do it. Fix this. Come on. Did he want to have friends or not?

"Cole." His throat was so tight he didn't even make a sound, just mouthed the word. He swallowed again and let out his breath, trying to pluck up courage he didn't have. "Cole, I—"

He broke off, despairing. He couldn't grind out the words. Cole hadn't even looked at him, and his silence felt like a soundproof wall keeping Jay out.

"Look—I—I . . . " Jay trailed off again. He drilled his gaze into the top of Cole's head, mentally pleading for him to look up, even for just a second.

Only then he realized that Cole was doing something strange. He was still wearing his hoodie from class, but he had draped his gym tanktop around his neck, as if it were an infinity scarf. As Jay watched blankly, Cole pulled his arms inwards, out of his sleeves and into the body of his hoodie. He poked one hand up through the collar, grabbed his gym shirt, and tugged it down _into_ the hoodie. A second of wriggling as he worked his arms through the holes in the tank top. Then he slipped the hoodie over his head and left only the gym shirt, already on.

It all took just a few seconds. He must have been practicing all weekend.

Jay could only stare in silence, overwhelmed. Cole tossed his hoodie into his gym bag, then _finally_ looked up and made eye contact. Jay started—he didn't look angry at all. Just a little sad, a little resigned, and—surely Jay was imagining it, but—mostly he just looked ashamed. As if waiting for Jay to be angry with _him._

When he found only bewilderment on Jay's face, his own expression softened. Without a word he stood to start on the weights machine, and reached up to ruffle Jay's hair as he passed. Jay blinked, startled into silence, and felt his insides melting into a delicious, slushy, infinitely relieved warmth.

He trounced everyone in dodgeball that day, and Couch Billings never could figure out why.

* * *

 **A/N: Originally I was going to end it at that last linebreak. :B**

 ** **Kai, Nya, and Lloyd next!****


	4. Lloyd, Kai, Nya: Three's a Crowd

**I LIIIIIIIIIIVE!**

 **Cor, the rate at which I update this thing. Blech. XD**

 **But this chapter was kind of a bear to write, and it's long too! So there's that, I guess.**

 **And on the bright side, the next chapter, wrapping up Cole and Jay's solo arc, is almost fully written! So it's gonna come out SOON. Real soon. :3**

 **Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing and faving and stuff! Every now and then I get a notification for this story, and then I remember I should be working on it, and then a lot of the time I actually do. :P So thanks for the encouragement!**

* * *

The years went by fast. Too fast. Koko tried to fight back a nagging sense of dread as she carefully prepared Lloyd's outfit for tomorrow. It was going to be his very first day of school—she should be delighted, proud, excited for her little boy. She shouldn't be grappling with the looming fear that all the other kids would hate him.

Except, of course, she was.

She hoped the Smiths didn't notice. The two families were preparing together in the Smiths' apartment: the adults packed lunches and debated appropriate first-day clothing, while the kids, giddy with anticipation, played school with their stuffed animals. First Spinjitzu Master have mercy upon the poor ragged lions and teddy bears who would never know more than a severely butchered version of the Ninjagian alphabet.

"They're so excited," smiled Mr. Smith, as Kai and Nya squabbled over the pointer. "Brings me right back to my first day of school."

"Mine too," said Koko, folding a tiny shirt. She hesitated, biting her lip. "I . . . I hope they all do well . . . "

The Smiths exchanged a significant glance.

"You're worried about Lloyd, aren't you?" said Mrs. Smith gently. Koko sighed, but nodded.

"I just . . . He's always been such a good boy. But I can't remember the last time he didn't get bullied or avoided on the playground. If he has the entire _school_ turn against him, I . . . I just don't know . . . "

"Koko, it's all right," said Ms. Smith, patting her shoulder. "School is a structured place. The teachers will make sure he gets treated all right."

"You can't let him see you're stressing," agreed Mr. Smith. "It'll just make him anxious. Don't worry, everything will be just fine."

"I know," said Koko quietly. "I know."

Across the room, Mayweather the Elephant had just spoken without raising his hand, and was now being prepared for ritual sacrifice to the Almighty Principal, while Moo-Moo the one-eyed cow was begging that his life be spared. In the end they both got sacrificed. It was unclear what this pack of six-year-olds expected out of first grade, but they might have been just a _little_ misinformed.

* * *

Things went downhill fast. All of Koko's worst fears were true—there was not another living being in the entire school who didn't hate Lloyd. The teachers weren't enough to stop it. A lot of them didn't even care. Plenty of them simply turned away or watched in apathetic silence as the other kids jeered, threw things, shoved Lloyd over in the halls. And not only did Lloyd face everyone's wrath, there was also plenty of pressure for Kai and Nya to ditch him.

They didn't. Nya kept getting into fistfights on his behalf. Kai tried to convince everyone he met that Lloyd was nice. When that failed, he resorted to just hugging him every time the other kids picked on him. He hugged him a lot.

Of course, by associating with the spawn of darkness, Kai and Nya gave themselves a bad name too. When it became clear they weren't going to see sense, everyone began to turn on them as well.

They still didn't ditch. It never even seemed to occur to them—in their six-year-old minds, some things were just hard facts. For example, fact: Lloyd was their friend. Fact: Friends don't ditch friends. Said so right in the My Pretty Pony songs. They probably did realize that distancing themselves from Lloyd would stop the hail of insults and physical attacks they got, but the thought of actually _doing_ that wasn't even on the table. Who would dare disobey the wisdom of My Pretty Pony?

But adults were heathens, and the My Pretty Pony teachings were lost on them. One night, a month into the school year, the Smiths asked Koko if they could have a talk.

She already looked pained as she stepped into the apartment, because she had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. The Smiths looked uncomfortable too.

"Care for some tea, hon?" said Mrs. Smith awkwardly. "I have herbal."

"No, that's—-that's all right, thanks," said Koko. Her shoulders were tense, waiting for the blow.

It came.

"We . . . thought we should talk about the kids," said Mr. Smith.

"I thought so." Koko tried to sound casual, bright and chipper and positive like she usually was, but an edge of bitterness was already creeping into her tone.

"It's been getting really rough," continued Mr. Smith. "On the kids."

"I know." Koko didn't sound even the tiniest bit cheerful now. "I know that they're getting bullied. I know being around Lloyd is costing them. But I—you—you can't ask them to just _leave_ him, to—"

"We're not exactly saying that, Koko," said Mrs. Smith as gently as she could. "We really, really don't want to ask that. We understand that Kai and Nya are the only friends Lloyd has. But . . . you understand, we have to think about our own children's safety, too."

"But Lloyd—"

"Nya's needed stitches already," said Mrs. Smith. "Kai comes home crying at least twice a week. It's been a month, and it's only gotten worse."

"You can't be doing this." Koko was nearing tears already. "You can't ask my son to face the entire school alone. I thought at least _you_ would—"

She caught herself, choking, her hands in fists by her side. There was a stifling silence.

"How about that tea," said Mrs. Smith softly. "We'll keep talking after that."

Koko let out a long, slow breath, composing herself.

"Yes. Please," she said huskily. "If you have that herbal."

Mrs. Smith put a hand on Koko's shoulder, and they all headed for the kitchen.

In the twins' bedroom, Nya had a paper cone pressed against the door, the small end jammed into her ear. She squinted with concentration, while Kai chewed on his fingers next to her.

"What're they saying?" he whispered.

"They're leaving!" Nya whispered back. "But they were fighting about us! And Lloyd!"

"What?!" Kai grabbed at his sister's pajama sleeve, eyes wide.

"They said being friends with Lloyd was too dangerous, and they're gonna make us stop!"

"No!" wailed Kai, his face crumpling.

"Shhhhh!" Nya clamped a hand over his mouth. Then she took her brother earnestly by the shoulders.

"Kai," she whispered earnestly. "Listen to me. We're not gonna let them take us away from Lloyd. We're not gonna let 'em."

"But what do we do?" asked Kai. "How?"

"I don't know." Nya's expression turned grim. "But I'll figure it out."

* * *

In the kitchen, Koko was slumped on the table, sipping unfeelingly at a cup of chamomile. The Smiths said nothing for the time being, sympathetic as she pulled herself together.

Finally she sat back. Her eyes were still puffy, but now dry. Her expression had changed to the quiet ferocity honed by her warrior past.

"I wish there was something I could do," she said, staring at the clock across the room. "I wish I could homeschool, but I need to hold down two jobs just to afford this apartment. If I stayed home to teach Lloyd, who would pay the bills?"

"I know, honey," said Mrs. Smith softly.

"And I mean, I've thought of transfering him to another school," continued Koko, waving her hands in despair. "But so what? They'll just hate him there too. I've thought of getting him a private tutor, but there's no way I could afford that, and I think I would trust a single person even less than a whole school. At least when it's a whole school, there are always some people watching, and there are always some who at least aren't willing to see him _die._ Who knows what a tutor might do behind closed doors!"

The Smiths said nothing. Koko always seemed so sweet and upbeat, they had never suspected that her thoughts went into such dark places.

"I've even thought of using an alias!" Koko glared down at her teacup. "But that _is_ his legal name. I don't want to change it. I don't want to start teaching him to _lie_ , to—to hide who he is, to act like he has to be ashamed for existing. I don't know if he'd even know how to fake that kind of thing, at his age."

She took a deep breath.

"But, I understand," she said quietly. "I understand that this is a lot to ask of you. Too much, really. I know I can't ask you to put your own kids in danger for the sake of mine. It's just . . . it's hard."

"We know, Koko," said Mrs. Smith. "Believe us. We don't want to do that to Lloyd. We'd hate to leave him without any friends, he doesn't deserve that. But . . . well, yes, it is hard."

A pained silence.

"Why don't we ask the kids?" said Mr. Smith abruptly. "I think they'd be old enough to choose. We could explain everything to them, tell them all the options, and let them decide together what they want. That would make them happiest, wouldn't it?"

Koko and Mrs. Smith exchanged a look.

"That . . . could work," said Koko. Her shoulders had loosened with relief already.

"Sure. We should definitely at least get the kids involved," agreed Mrs. Smith.

"But let's save it for the weekend," said Mr. Smith. "I think it's going to be an emotional situation. We should do it when we don't have work and school going on."

"Fair," said Mrs. Smith. "Friday night, then?"

"Friday night." Koko slumped back in her chair and gave the Smiths a watery smile. "Thank you."

* * *

Kai and Nya knew nothing of Friday night. The next day, they pulled Lloyd aside before class and told him their plan.

"And so they said that they'd make us leave you! They were gonna make us stop being friends!" said Kai. "They think you're dangerous."

Lloyd said nothing, staring at his feet. What could he say? The grown-ups were right. He had always had an uneasy feeling, whenever he saw the twins getting picked on—he always subconsciously realized that all of it was _his_ fault. And now the grown-ups said so too.

"So we're gonna run away." Nya's eyes were burning with determination. "Tonight. We're gonna run away and hide, and we'll never ever come back until they promise we can stay together."

"But we'll get in trouble!" said Lloyd, looking up with wide eyes.

"Pfff, not if they don't find us!" scoffed Nya.

"Besides. They'll just be so happy to have us back, they won't care," added Kai knowingly.

"But where will we live?" asked Lloyd. "What're we gonna eat?"

"Kai and I found where Daddy keeps the candy! We're gonna fill up all our backpacks, and even make sandwiches!" Nya considered the former question, then shrugged. "And we'll just hide in a drain pipe or something. No big deal."

"I know! The little playhouse in the park!" said Kai. "We can live there, it'll be fun!"

"But what if our parents worry about us?" said Lloyd, still hesitant.

"That's their own fault!" Nya huffed. "They shouldn't'a tried to split us up! We need to teach them a lesson."

"But . . . " Lloyd looked at the floor, lost in thought. Nya patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Lloyd. It won't be scary as long as we're together!"

"And we won't have to go to school anymore," said Kai, grinning.

"We can play all day, just like we used to!"

"And eat nothing but candy!"

"No bedtimes!"

"All the TV we want!"

"Well, but we'll have to get a TV first . . . "

As the twins chattered excitedly on, Lloyd watched them in silence. Somehow, he couldn't see a way out. The thought of losing the twins, his only friends in an ever-crueller world, was utterly terrifying. But somehow, the thought of running away seemed to fill him with just as much dread. The grown-ups said he was putting Kai and Nya in danger. Now they were going to run away for his sake and get in even more danger? And probably trouble too?

"Hey, why're ya so quiet?" Nya broke off from the escape plan to whap Lloyd's shoulder again. "Come on, Lloyd! You _are_ running away with us, right? You're not gonna be a _chicken_ , are you?"

"I . . . I . . . " Lloyd looked from one twin to another, caught between their expectant stares. At last he sighed and nodded.

"Okay. Running away."

Kai and Nya both cheered and hugged him exuberantly, just as the first bell rang.

"Tonight! We'll do it tonight!" said Nya. "Pack food. Be ready."

They scurried to class, their heads already filled with thoughts of daring runaway adventures.

* * *

The adventures, when they started, were actually really boring. Kai and Nya sat in their dark bedroom for hours, smacking each other to stay awake, as the grownups shuffled around the living room and kitchen. The length of time before they went to bed was _infuriating_. You'd think they lived just to ruin little kids' escape attempts.

But finally, the sounds of motion stopped. The lights went out. Kai and Nya waited a few minutes more, then picked up their two backpacks. Each had been emptied of school supplies and stuffed to the brim with candy and toys—and also raincoats. Raincoats! They were just _so_ grown-up and responsible. Kai'd been so proud of himself for remembering the raincoats, he'd nearly told their parents.

They got out the front door easily. They had no problems making it to Koko and Lloyd's apartment. But _then_ , after that, they had problems.

The apartment door was locked, of course. They'd expected that. Nya, the spy-movie connoisseur, had packed a pen. In the movies they always managed to pick locks with this kind of thing, usually in ten seconds tops! Nya was no fool, though, she knew that Hollywood stuff was all faked. She'd been careful and allowed for a full twenty seconds.

Except twenty seconds came and went, and still no progress. Nya kept poking and poking at the lock with the tip of the pen, her tongue pressed against her upper lip and her brows scrunched with concentration. Kai fidgeted at her side, glancing nervously up and down the hall. Strange shuffling noises seemed to emanate from behind the closed doors, as if they might burst open any moment and release screaming monsters.

He drew a little closer to Nya. She was still struggling, which was hardly surprising considering that the pen barely dipped into the keyhole at all. Suddenly sounds of motion came from behind the very door Nya was working on. She froze in shock, and Kai clutched her arm.

"Who's there?" came Koko's voice from the other side. The twins shrank back, too panicked to run.

The door burst open, revealing Koko brandishing a frying pan. She looked around, then down. He eyebrows shot up.

"Kai, Nya?" She lowered the pan. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

The twins blinked up at her. Nya remembered herself and hastily hid the pen behind her back.

"We were . . . Uh . . . We just wanted to talk to Lloyd!" she said glibly.

Koko's brows knitted.

"He's asleep now, sweetie. Can it wait till tomorrow?"

"Oh, uh . . . no, it's important. Can we just see him?"

"Uh . . . " Koko looked undecided.

"It's _really_ important," volunteered Kai timidly, only now loosening his grip on his sister's arm.

"And we won't even wake him up." Nya gave her sweetest, brightest, most winning smile—which really should have tipped Koko off that something fishy was going on.

Maybe she did realize something was up, and was just curious. Or maybe she was too confused by the twins' strange request at this strange hour. Either way, she sighed and stepped aside, allowing the kids into the apartment. She followed a few steps behind as they headed to Lloyd's room.

" _Nya_ ," hissed Kai, and gave his sister a despairing look. How were they supposed to run away with Lloyd right under Koko's nose? Nya only shook her head slightly, her eyes determined. They would make it work. Somehow. Maybe they could grab Lloyd and drag him away so fast that Koko wouldn't even know what had happened. Totally legit, right?

Meanwhile, Koko was studying the twins' stuffed backpacks with a quizzical expression.

They cracked open the door and crept into Lloyd's darkened bedroom. Kai stood on his toes to turn on the light, then turned to Lloyd's bed along with Nya.

They both stopped cold. Behind them Koko gave a startled gasp. The bed was empty.

* * *

Lloyd was a mile and a half away by now. The darkness itself seemed like an unfriendly beast, writhing just behind him, waiting to crush and smother him if he stopped for even a second. Passing late-night commuters and drunks sent him scurrying in zigzags, one side of the street to the other, his breath whistling in his throat.

Somewhere to the right, just by his hand, the barking of a giant dog split the air. He gave a little shriek and took off down the nearest side street to get away. By the time he stopped running, he was at the edge of one of the city parks. He recognized it—Koko sometimes took him here. Slightly comforted by the familiarity, he clambered onto the edge of merry-go-round and tried to catch his breath. Around him leaves blew about in the breeze, the swings shifted and creaked softly. He shivered. Off in the corner he could see the little playhouse Kai and Nya had talked about living in, but he couldn't stomach the thought of going in there. The windows gaped at him like dark, empty eyes. There might be ghosts or monsters or giant spiders in there. Maybe if he'd had the twins with him, it wouldn't have been so bad . . . But bringing the twins would have defeated the entire purpose.

Snuffling, he huddled into his jacket and scooched further back onto the merry-go-round.

* * *

Koko and the Smiths were frantic. Mrs. Smith was searching all over the apartment complex and neighboring streets to see if Lloyd was hiding somewhere nearby. Koko was calling the police. Mr. Smith was trying to decipher the note Lloyd had left on his pillow. It was mostly pictograms, and some very questionable lettering.

"Anything?" said Mrs. Smith, passing by on another circuit of the building. Mr. Smith groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

"I've got that he's running away. Not really news."

"Why would he do that?" said Mrs. Smith, pulling back one corner of her mouth. "Is school really that unbearable?"

Nya and Kai were huddled on the sofa, unnerved by the parental panic all around them. They understood pretty well what had happened, and could probably have read the note through mysterious six-year-old telepathy, but they thought they'd better keep quiet. Nobody was listening to them anyway.

Koko was stumbling down the line between despair and rage. The police had mostly just made excuses, something about a time limit before missing-person searches could start. They promised they'd help if Lloyd didn't show up soon, but Koko caught the heavy hints that really, nobody could summon much enthusiasm for the search. Nobody would regret it too much if Lloyd died somewhere on the streets. It would save them all some trouble later on.

Times like this, she wasn't at all sorry that she gave up defending Ninjago. Honestly she felt more like joining Garmadon in destroying it.

* * *

Lloyd was drifting in and out of a doze, starting every time a chillier breeze blew through. He snapped wide awake, though, at the sound of distant barking. It sounded like it was coming steadily closer. He slid to his feet, heart pounding as he squinted into the dark city, searching for the approaching dog.

Suddenly, there it was. It was massive, with the chiseled head of an attack dog, and Lloyd could have sworn its eyes were glowing a hellish red. With its jaws open wide, it was galloping straight towards him.

Lloyd bolted like a rabbit. With the crazed instincts of fear, he shot towards the nearby slide, reasoning that getting off the ground would protect him from the dog. He didn't even realize how he got up the ladder, but somehow, there he suddenly was at the top.

His instincts were wrong. The dog started to climb the ladder after him. By now nearly faint with terror, Lloyd threw himself headlong down the slide, tumbled to his feet, tried to run, went sprawling, scrambled back up again and kept running.

Luckily, the downward slope of the slide gave the dog bigger problems. It scrabbled uncertainly at the top, yelp-whining and drawing back each time its paws began to slide out from underneath it. By the time it got to the bottom of the slide, Lloyd had a good head start and a passing car offered something more interesting to chase.

Lloyd didn't even look back. He just kept running, expecting each moment to feel the dog's teeth sinking into him. When he felt exhaustion overtaking him, he stumbled into an alleyway, dove behind some trash cans, and dragged some crates around him to create a barricade. He hunkered down with his knees under his chin, panting, praying the dog wouldn't find him.

For a long time, it was quiet. Cars murmured in the distance. Sometimes some footsteps passed nearby. As the adrenaline drained away, weariness and despair took over. Lloyd slumped back against the cold brick of the adjacent building, burying his face in his arms. It was so cold . . . He was hungry and so scared, with no idea where to go or what to do tomorrow. But he couldn't go home. If he went home, Kai and Nya would try to run away too, and then they would be out here hungry and cold and scared too. Better him than all three of them. This was better.

A few tears seeped into his sleeves, but just a few; he was too numb to feel much. His eyes began to drift closed, even as the cold kept jerking him awake.

"Mrowwww?"

Something warm patted his leg. He jerked his head upright, panicking all over again. His mom had always warned him to stay away from stray cats! They could make you sick and stuff! Lloyd didn't exactly understand how rabies worked, but he got the general gist that stray animals were death on four paws.

"Go away," he whispered in terror to the orange-and-white cat at his feet. "Go away!"

" _Mreeeeewr,_ " keened the cat, and slunk against his legs lovingly.

"Please, go away," quavered Lloyd, trying to push the cat off. As he stuck his hands under her front legs, he suddenly blinked.

"Marbles?"

The sparkly collar looked familiar. Squinting closer at the tag, he made out a word with a familiar shape, if he couldn't quite read it. This was the cat from a few doors down, who had always been so patient with four-year-old handling in the past.

"Marbles," choked Lloyd, and went from trying to pry the cat away to hugging her for all he was worth. She cat-grumbled slightly, but hung obligingly in Lloyd's grasp as he buried his face in her fur. Right now it meant everything to have this reminder of home.

After a moment Lloyd managed to calm down a little, and switched to just stroking Marbles' back.

"How'd you get all the way out here, Marbles? Arencha an inside cat?"

"Mew." Marbles rubbed her head under his chin.

Lloyd bit his lip, anxious. He was pretty sure Marbles' owner had said he never let her outside. What if she wasn't supposed to be out here? What if she was lost? Her owner was the nicest young man . . . he must be so worried right now . . .

With a little groan of resignation, Lloyd clambered to his feet, Marbles still in his arms. He couldn't let this poor kitty run around lost all night. If he was really careful, he could probably sneak her home without being caught . . .

Lloyd had to trudge down several streets before he saw anything that looked familiar. It wasn't so scary now that he had Marbles purring in his arms, but the cat was a little heavy and he was starting to get discouraged with the strange surroundings.

Finally, to his joy, he recognized the corner shop where his mom sometimes let him get a bit of candy. From there it wasn't so hard to find his way back to the apartment complex.

He realized people might be up and searching for him, so he entered with caution. Marbles squirmed, no longer quite as contented.

"Shhh!" protested Lloyd, as the cat hissed. "No Marbles, stay. We're almost home."

He decided to just leave her in the hallway, since knocking on her owner's door might get him caught. Marbles, however, was by now thoroughly disenchanted. She flailed wildly, squalling in protest, and refused to let Lloyd load her through the hall door.

"No, Marbles! Go in there! Marbles!" whispered Lloyd fiercely. "NO!"

Too late; the cat slithered from his hands and streaked down the stairs, heading again for the wild blue yonder. Lloyd made a desperate grab and instead plowed into the floor. He picked himself up and prepared to give chase—only to find himself looking straight at Mr. Smith, just coming up the stairs.

Lloyd's eyes widened in dismay. Then he lowered them to the carpet silently.

"I found him!" Mr. Smith was already bellowing, at a volume very inappropriate for two AM. "I found him!"

* * *

Within half an hour Lloyd was on the Smiths' couch, wrapped in a blanket, disinfected all over for scrapes and cat scratches, clutching a cup of hot herbal tea. He stared down at the drink, too miserable to even sip at it.

"What were you thinking, Lloyd?" said Koko, wiping her eyes. "Why did you try to run away? Are you okay?"

Lloyd scrunched down into the blankets, boring a hole into the cup with his eyes. His lower lip jutted out stubbornly.

Koko let out a long breath, trying to compose herself. She was still shaken from the near-loss of her baby son and weak with relief from finding him again. She didn't know if she was in shape to properly interrogate just now.

Just around this point, Nya and Kai got loose. Their parents had herded them off to their bedroom, concerned that Lloyd's battered state would frighten them. Now Nya bolted out the door, slipped under her father's arms, and dashed for the living room. Kai followed close behind.

"YOU RUINED IT," Nya shouted as soon as she saw Lloyd. He was so startled he dropped the tea.

"You were supposed to wait for us! Now it's ruined! They'll never let us run away now!" Nya kept shouting, stamping her foot with each new sentence.

"Why didn't you wait, Lloyd?" Kai's woeful tones wove under Nya's three-digit decibels.

"Kids!" said Mrs. Smith, horrified at the altercation. Lloyd was shrinking back into the sofa.

"I had to," he said. "I couldn't let you run away with me. You'd get in trouble."

"We didn't care!" snapped Nya. "We were supposed to be friends, Lloyd! We were supposed to be together! Now we won't!"

"I can't," said Lloyd, doggedly fighting the tears pooling in his eyes. "I can't get you in trouble anymore."

"Lloyd," said Koko gently. "Honey. Why did you run away?"

Lloyd looked uneasily to Kai and Nya, worried about throwing them under the bus. The twins started both talking at once, carried away by fury.

"We were SUPPOSED to run away together," said Nya, still stamping. "And we weren't gonna come back till you let us be friends with Lloyd!"

"But he ran away without us!" supplied Kai.

"I had to run away to stop _you_ from running away!" protested Lloyd. "I had to!"

" _Whose side are you on?!_ " barked Nya. "THEIRS?"

"Nya," said Mrs. Smith sharply, while Kai began to sob. Lloyd had been scrubbing helplessly at his eyes for some time by now.

"Go away," he choked. "Just go away . . . Just leave me . . . "

"No!" Kai and Nya attempted to latch onto him, while he attempted to shake them off, flapping the loaned blanket. Even Nya was starting to wail now; Lloyd finally gave up struggling and dissolved into tears in earnest. The twins huddled next to him in no better shape.

Meanwhile the adults were standing and blankly watching this welter of misery.

"I'm getting the feeling we maybe shouldn't split them up," said Mr. Smith, at length.

Nya's head shot up.

"You mean it?!"

Their parents looked at each other and exchanged shrugs. Mrs. Smith finally turned to the kids with an exhausted smile.

"If it really means that much to you . . . "

Kai and Nya immediately began to shriek with elation.

"We can stay, Lloyd! We can stay!" whooped Kai, jumping up and down on the sofa. Lloyd went right on crying, this time mostly from relief, but also from leftover dread. He knew this didn't mean things would get better for Kai and Nya. Even if he was too young to fully picture the future, some tiny part of him was looking ahead to the years of bullying the twins would face thanks to him. Even as he rushed to pull them close again, he felt like he should be pushing them away.

Meanwhile Nya buried her face in his shoulder.

"I knew we could do it," she mumbled huskily. "We'll stay with you forever now, Lloyd. Forever and ever and ever."

Lloyd squeezed his eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around the twins. As much as he appreciated the promise, he knew forever and ever couldn't be true.

* * *

And it wasn't. The years passed, the twins stayed at Lloyd's side, and he did his best to repay their faithfulness. It was in sixth grade that things started to fall apart.

"Hey Lloyd, we can't go to the skate park after all," called Nya, sticking her head in through the door. "Sorry! Our parents are draggin' us out house hunting."

"House hunting?!" Lloyd whirled from the counter, where he'd been making a sandwich.

"Yeah. I guess Dad's job finally racked up enough extra for us to buy something." Nya shrugged. " _Someday_. If he doesn't lose it again. Which, you know." She blew a dismissive raspberry, rolling her eyes, then waved and disappeared.

Lloyd stared after her, a mayo-coated knife still in his hand. A feeling of doom settled over him. He knew Mr. Smith had never held down a job long enough to make much difference before. But it had also never reached the point of _house-hunting_ before. Somehow, he had a feeling this time was different.

And it was. Three weeks later, waiting at the bus stop, Kai and Nya announced that they had a new house. They seemed to be slightly in shock themselves, but it had nothing on Lloyd's feelings.

"So you're gonna move?" he asked, vaguely aware that the world was spinning around him.

"I guess, yeah," said Kai. "I think next month."

"It's closer to Dad's job," said Nya. "Since he lost his license and stuff, he can walk, so that's gonna be good. He swears he won't lose the job this time, so we can keep making house payments. Heck, I even believe him. It's a really cool house."

"There's two floors and everything," said Kai.

"And we're gonna have our own rooms."

"And an actual yard, geez!"

The world seemed to spin faster. Lloyd hadn't seen a two-story house within _miles_ of their apartment. How far away were the twins moving?!

"It's not . . . it's not nearby, is it?" he said faintly.

"Huh?" Kai looked up from a discussion of square footage with Nya. "Well, I mean . . . not really, I guess. We had to drive like half an hour."

"Oh," said Lloyd.

Too far to walk, then. This was it. The twins were going. They were leaving his life.

"You okay, Lloyd?" said Kai. He and Nya were watching their friend with some concern now.

"Oh, uh—" Lloyd gave them a distracted smile. "Sorry, sorry! I know, big news, that's awesome. Just—just can't stop zonking out about that math test."

"Ughhhhhh." Kai and Nya groaned simultaneously. The conversation drifted onto that topic instead, and Lloyd slowly fought back the nausea he'd suddenly picked up.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the topic of moving came up more and more frequently. First it was an abstract concept; then there were definite plans; then the packing had started.

Lloyd watched it all numbly, trying to stay positive and cheerful for the twins' sake. He couldn't be selfish about it. Kai and Nya were going to live in a much nicer place, with more room and less financial anxiety and much better friends who didn't get them bullied and rejected. He should be happy for them. But as the final moving day drew ever closer, Kai and Nya started to pick up his melancholy. Conversations became sober. Nya became a little moody. Kai _somehow_ managed to get even more clingy. Lloyd was already struggling not to let the situation break him, but it was even harder when he saw it was affecting his friends too.

Finally it was the last day. The Smiths' apartment was empty, echoing hollowly. The Smiths were cramming the last of their possessions into a van they'd borrowed.

Kai and Nya stood in the hallway with Lloyd.

"I'm really gonna miss this place," said Kai quietly.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," replied Lloyd, looking away.

"We'll miss you too," said Nya, slipping into that gentle tone she reserved almost exclusively for comforting Lloyd. He swallowed hard, wishing she hadn't. He was _not_ going to cry.

The van doors were finally forced shut, the latch straining against untold boxes and bags. Kai and Nya promised to send tons of pictures of the new place. Lloyd made some (empty) promises about visiting someday. They all hugged each other a dozen times and gave brave, shaky smiles and talked about how great the new house would be. Finally they were driving away, Kai and Nya leaning out the van windows to wave goodbye. Lloyd waved back.

He didn't cry till he was in bed that night.

* * *

The next morning he woke up with a dull, cold ache in his stomach. This was the first day of his new life, a life all alone. He'd be facing the hatred of the entire school, the entire city, the entire _world_ , without a single friend by his side to help him pretend it was okay. He didn't know how he was going to do it.

He tried to block everything out. He felt the usual glares on the bus, heard the usual suspicious whispers. He didn't even look up when the occasional wadded paper bounced off his head.

In the hall were the usual catcalls, sneers, averted eyes. He tried to ignore all of those too. This wasn't so bad. He'd gotten through nearly half an hour already. Just repeat this a couple thousand million times and his whole school career would be over before he knew it. Heh.

Screw his life.

When he reached his locker, he found the usual small collection of hateful notes and unflattering cartoons taped to the door. He pulled them off one by one, heart heavy. He could almost hear Kai's casual chatter, distracting him so he wouldn't look at the notes, or Nya's snarky "oooh, a self-portrait!" He wasn't going to have that support anymore. He'd better find a new coping strategy. Biting his lip, he pulled the locker open and began to dig for his math textbook.

"Lloyd, quick, I need a pen!"

Lloyd nearly fell into his locker. He snapped around to find Kai holding a crumpled sheet of paper and looking frazzled. Nya stood next to him rolling her eyes.

"He forgot to do Problem Set 3 last night. I _told_ him not to stay up exploring the new house!"

"I wasn't exploring! I just couldn't sleep!" retorted Kai. He turned back to Lloyd and frowned. "Uhhh, you okay?"

Lloyd was staring open-mouthed from one twin to the other. What did his own two eyes actually see? Had he just dreamed the entire moving story? Was he dreaming _now?_ Oh shoot, for sure he was dreaming. He was going to wake up any second.

"Lloyd?" Nya was starting to look concerned too. "What's wrong?"

"How . . . why are you here?" Lloyd finally managed.

"Beeeecause . . . it's Monday?" Nya raised her eyebrows, puzzled.

"But you _moved!_ " sputtered Lloyd.

"Well yeah, but we stayed in the same school district," said Kai. Suddenly his eyes went wide. "Uh, wait. Did we not tell you that?"

At Lloyd's open-mouthed silence, Kai and Nya exchanged dismayed looks.

"I could have sworn we mentioned that," said Nya awkwardly.

"You were acting like we'd never see each other again!"

"Well, you know. Not living in the same building anymore, that's different. Plus, uh—" Kai rubbed the back of his head. "Youuuu . . . seemed to be taking it pretty hard yourself. Um. Looking back that makes more sense now."

Lloyd stared at them for a moment longer. Then he leaned back into his locker and started to laugh, his hands over his eyes.

"I hate you guys so much right now," he managed.

"Uhh . . . should we go?" Kai ventured a joking grin.

"No!" Lloyd sobered up at once, stumbling upright. "No, no. I just—" He shook his head, unable to find words. He didn't want to guilt-trip them, and he knew Nya wasn't fond of mush. How was he supposed to tell them how empty his world had been without them?

"Sorry about that, Lloyd," said Nya, with a small, sheepish smile. She understood.

"Agh . . . S'okay." Sighing, but still smiling so hard his face hurt, Lloyd picked up his scattered textbooks. He looked up to Kai with a teasing grin of his own. "I'm just not loaning you my pen."

"Awwww, seriously?"

"Nope. No pen." Lloyd set off down the hall, his heart warming as Kai and Nya kept pace. Suddenly the stares and the whispers faded right into the background.

"Come on Lloyd, just for a few minutes!" Kai shoved him lightly.

"No." Lloyd laughed and shoved him back.

"Come onnnnn!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Lloyd, I'm gonna get an F! And I _know_ all the answers!"

"Say please."

"Ughhh. Okay fine, _please_ can I have a pen?!"

"Hmmmm, still no."

"Lloyyyyyyyd!"

Grinning, Lloyd swiveled as he walked, keeping his backpack out of Kai's reach. He had every intention of lending Kai the pen eventually, of course.

Eventually.


	5. J & C: Strong

**Ta-DAAAAAA! XP**

 **Good time for a reminder, I guess? I don't own these characters, they belong to LEGO or Warner Brothers or some faceless orb hidden within the fabric of time and space . . . Anyway, they're not mine.**

* * *

It was a strange thing to pay attention to, if you didn't know the reason. As Jay changed into his gym clothes, he watched Cole from the corner of his eye. The other teen either didn't notice or pretended not to. Casually he dragged his gym shirt down into his hoodie, only removing the hoodie once his new shirt was on. Jay cringed. Bruises again today. It had been a few weeks without them, he had been hoping they'd stopped for good. But he didn't say anything to Cole.

That afternoon, Jay ran into trouble on his way to chemistry class. He was going to his locker for his lab coat when he saw some of the upperclassmen standing around in the hallway, talking and laughing. They were blocking his locker.

Jay cleared his throat. Do it like Cole always said; with confidence! Like ya mean it!

"Hey, can I get to my locker?" he said. Then, a little appalled at himself, hastily added "please."

Even as he said it, he cringed at himself. The more he tried to sound hardcore, the more pathetic he came across. He wasn't even sure if he'd been loud enough to hear.

He had been. Unfortunately. Some of the older kids turned to him, their expressions shifting to amusement when they saw his petrified expression.

"Whatcha want, dumbass?"

Jay's entire repertoire of higher functions crashed and burned. He stood, utterly helpless. If he tried to speak again, he'd only make himself look like a bigger fool. If he said nothing or backed down, his humiliation would be complete. Either way, how was he supposed to get his lab coat? Worse, if he made a wrong step, was he gonna get beat up? It was starting to look that way.

"You want something, or what?" said one of the kids, snorting.

Jay sputtered. One of the teens started cracking his knuckles.

"Talk, already," groaned another. "Or are you just gonna stand there squeaking like a little bi—"

"Hey." A calm but piercing voice came from down the hall. Jay looked beyond the teenagers and saw Cole, headphones in hand, looking supremely bored. He was using that voice Jay could never figure out, where he didn't raise the volume at all but still carried like crazy.

"Geez, what's _your_ problem now?" said one of the teenagers.

"You talkin' to him?" said Cole, pointing to Jay. "Get off him. He's in my class, and I've got _words_ for him. He's mine."

The older teens exchanged puzzled glances. Cole was a little shorter than most of them, but clearly musclebound enough to throw any of them to the floor. If he had beef with this annoying little guy, they saw no reason to interfere.

"Thannnnnk you," said Cole sarcastically, as the teens parted to let him through. He rolled his shoulders, boring his glare into Jay as he stomped towards him. Jay backed up against the lockers, doing a pretty convincing impression of terror. Cole was _good_ at looking scary. The black-haired teen glanced over his shoulder at the upperclassmen, who were all watching with interest.

"Hey, do me a favor and keep the hall monitors off my back, okay?" he said, smirking significantly.

He knew exactly what he was doing. At the reminder that they could be caught any moment, the teens all lost nerve and began to edge away, unwilling to be caught in the vicinity of a murder.

"Now," growled Cole. "Where's my money?"

"I don't have any money!" protested Jay, squirming dramatically. Cole pinned him back against the lockers, and Jay gave a little yelp, to make it look convincing for the passing students.

"Gimme the money or I swear I'll do you up in ponytails and pink ribbons," hissed Cole. He was visibly trying not to laugh.

"Says the guy _wearing_ a ponytail?" Jay whispered.

Now they were both struggling not to crack up. Thankfully, the bell rang just then, and the hallway started to rapidly empty. As soon as they were alone, Cole pulled back and nodded to Jay's locker.

"Go!"

Jay knew he'd be borderline late for class as it was, so there was no time to waste. He dove for the lock, while Cole set off at a dangerously uncool pace for his own locker.

* * *

After school, Cole headed off to Coraco's as usual. Breaking into a lope, Jay passed him, exchanging only the tiniest, quickest nod. Then he continued off around a bakery. Looping around the block, dodging snowdrifts all the way, he returned to the street Cole was taking, knowing Cole would be waiting at the corner. This was to avoid anyone from school seeing them together. Cole's "tough, edgy loner" persona was important to him, and it wouldn't do for him to be seen being friendly with a classmate—let alone Jay, the weakest link. Jay made a habit of playing along to maintain Cole's reputation.

When he got to the corner, Cole wasn't there. Puzzled, he looked around.

"Boo." A soft lump of snow shattered atop his head. Spluttering, he whirled to find Cole laughing silently from the shop doorway he'd been hiding in. Snatching up double handfuls of snow, Jay dove to retaliate. Cole took off, and Jay ended up chasing him all the way to the city harbor. There they stopped to catch their breaths, roughhousing and shoving snow into each others' faces. Finally they flopped against the guardrail overlooking the water, panting and laughing.

"Huh." Cole checked his watch. "I'm gonna be early."

This was an acknowledgement that they could relax for a bit. Jay turned to dangle his arms over the guardrail; beside him Cole propped up his elbows, then winced and drew back. Jay winced too, his good mood tanking. He'd forgotten about the bruises. All he could do was hope, at times like this, that Cole forgot too. At least for a little while.

"Thanks for today," he said softly, after a moment. "Sorry you had to step in."

"'s all right." Cole yawned. "I doubt they suspected anything."

"Thanks for . . . everything, really," said Jay. He sighed, again sharply conscious of the inequality in their friendship. Cole was always protecting him, looking out for him. What did he get from Jay in return? A few laughs, at best. Hardly fair.

"You know somethin'?" When Jay looked up, he found Cole looking at the crumpled pack of cigarettes he'd still been stowing in his pocket. "Screw you. I'm looking at this thing right now, and I don't even want one."

"First time?" Jay perked up.

"I think so." Cole snorted ruefully. "Man. When I think of all the records I could've bought with all that cigarette money—"

After a final moment looking down at the cigarette packet, he tossed it off into the sea.

* * *

The months crept by. Sometimes Cole took off his shirt before gym class, and sometimes he didn't. But he never complained. He kept going to work, kept stuffing money into his mattress. Jay tried hard to distract him, give him something to laugh about in between the beatings. For Cole he was willing to push away his shyness and be as sarcastic as he liked, even be silly—anything for a smile. It started to spill over into the rest of his life too. His teachers began to sigh at his terrible chemistry and history puns. But instead of retreating, Jay only felt encouraged, spurred on by the giggles or appreciative groans of his classmates. And of course, by the fun of watching Cole gritting his teeth, struggling not to laugh in school.

One Friday night, they had a special occasion. Cole's birthday was coming up soon, so he asked for a half-shift at work, which meant he finished at 8 PM. Jay also asked permission to stay out late. He and Cole commandeered a table at the all-night gas station and spent the evening feasting on slushies and grab-n-go sandwiches.

"Guess what, tho," said Cole, flicking a mayonnaise packet at Jay's nose. He chuckled at Jay's return shot, then continued. "This isn't just about my birthday."

"Oh ya? What else is it?"

"Payday." Fishing in his jacket, Cole flashed a small wad of bills. "But not just _any_ payday. This week, I finally made enough money to cover rent for two years. _Two whole years_. That's bound to be enough time to get a business running!"

"Woahhhh." Jay grinned. "That's great!"

Privately he wondered if Cole had factored food and clothes into this equation. But he didn't want to spoil Cole's moment.

"Ahh, maybe I'll start working every other week now," said Cole, resting his elbows on the tabletop and looking dreamily into the distance. "I mean heck, it'll be another three years before I can _actually_ live on my own, how much more money would I need? I'm running out of room in my mattress."

Jay gave a sad smile. It was always fun to watch Cole getting all dreamy about his future, but the "three years" thing hurt to think about. Three more years of living with his dad.

As he slid his gaze away, trying to distract himself from the thought, he stiffened.

"Uh-oh. Classmates!" he whispered.

Cole snapped out of his reverie and followed Jay's gaze. A small gaggle of their classmates had indeed sailed into the gas station, chattering about some late-night movie. They hadn't started looking for a table yet, so they hadn't seen Jay and Cole sitting together towards the back.

"I'll go." Jay gave Cole a nod and began to slide out of his seat.

"Ahhh, don't bother—" began Cole.

"No, it's okay!" Jay grabbed his slushie and ducked off into the aisles of candy and snack foods.

He was lingering around the cappuccino machine, pretending to read the flavor options, when someone behind him cleared his throat. He turned around to find Cole, his arms full of cups and sandwich boxes from their table. He held out the sandwich Jay had left behind.

"But—" Jay snuck a glance at their nearby classmates. "They're gonna—"

"Whatever," said Cole.

Jay hesitated, then took the sandwich. As they headed for the door, one of their classmates glanced their way and waved.

"Hey," he called, surprise evident on his face.

Cole only gave an exaggeratedly patient raise of his eyebrows before breezing onwards. He tossed an empty fries box over his shoulder, landing it squarely in the trash can. Then he paused at the door and looked back, pointedly waiting for Jay. The freckled teen balked for only a second, then hurried to join him. He could feel the others' curious gazes on his back.

"I thought you had a reputation," said Jay, once they were outside in the cool night air. "You know. Couldn't be seen with me?"

"It's not that I can't be seen with _you_ ," said Cole, with just a hint of reproach. "I just can't be seen with _anyone_."

"Yeah. So . . . you know, you didn't have to do that," said Jay. "I didn't mind."

"Ahh, whatever." Cole shrugged and took a bite out of his sandwich as he walked. "I'm thinking about getting over that. I guess it's a pretty weird way to treat a friend."

Jay blinked. No matter how many times he heard it (which admittedly wasn't many), he still got the warm-fuzzies every time Cole admitted they were friends. He sipped at his slushie, trying to hide his smile.

"Thanks for giving me that space, though," said Cole quietly. "I don't know anyone else who would do that."

"I—I mean, it's the least I can do," said Jay. Which was true. _He_ didn't know anyone else who could be that strong and cool, yet still so patient with Jay's insecurities, so considerate of his weaknesses. He still felt guilty about all the times Cole had stood up for him or saved him from bullies, all the ways he'd encouraged Jay to be braver and more confident. Heck, just for the way he willing to be friends with a loser like him at all.

But even if he didn't understand _why_ Cole stuck around, Jay was grateful he did. And he was more than happy to repay it any way he could. They'd make it through those three more years of high school, together. On nights like this he was sure of it.

They walked quietly for a while, meeting only the occasional car. In the distance Jay could hear the faint rumble of the city, like an endless passing train. On their left was the harbor, and far in the distance the glowing peak of Garmadon's new volcano lair. Usually the sight of the upgraded lair gave Jay anxious chills, but tonight it almost seemed pretty. He felt content and peaceful.

They drew closer to Cole's street. There was a bus stop nearby, where Jay would wait for a bus home. Admittedly Jay was a little nervous about waiting alone at the stop, in the dark, in a semi-sketchy neighborhood. But he didn't say anything to Cole—he could see a familiar distant, empty look creeping into his friend's eyes. He was slowly gearing himself up for the bitterness at home.

Jay glanced ruefully ahead to the shabby townhouse, wishing for the four hundredth time that Cole had a happy home to return to. Then he froze.

"Cole," he whispered.

Cole glanced at him sharply, startled by his tone. He followed Jay's pointing finger and froze as well. The windows of Cole's house were lit with a pulsing orange glow, and smoke poured from under the eaves. The house was on fire.

"Dammit!" Cole broke into a run. Jay followed. They skidded to a stop under the front steps, close enough to feel the searing heat bursting from inside, warning them away. Flames were starting to lick through the windows. You could hear them roaring inside.

"What did the idiot do now?!" yelled Cole, digging his hands into his hair. "What did he _do?_ "

"I-I'm calling the fire department!" Jay snatched for his phone.

"If they're not here yet, who knows when they will be?" Cole paced in a tight, small circle. "What did he do, what did he _do?_ Worthless son of a Skulkin!"

Jay bit hard into his fingers, his heart pounding in his ears. The heat and roaring flames were terrifying. A chunk of smoldering, melting siding crashed down right nearby, sending him scurrying to safety. The neighbors were starting to run out into the street.

"The neighbors already called! They just called!" shouted Jay, still on the phone. "The fire department's—COLE! NO!"

Cole had just barged through the front door.

For a second Jay stared after him in horror. Then he scrabbled up the front steps, cringing against the waves of roasting heat. How did Cole stand it? What was he _thinking?_ The mattress with his money—he couldn't be _dreaming_ of going upstairs, could he?!

He was forced to stop in the doorway, his eyes streaming from the smoke and the heat. Then he bolted out of the way when he saw a dark figure approaching, silhouetted in the flames inside the hall.

Cole came stumbling down the steps, dragging his father by the arm. The man was screaming curses and beating around himself with a broom, which was itself heartily on fire. Judging by unsteady swipes he was making, and his tottering gait, he was proper inebriated.

"It's a _fire,_ Dad, you're going to DIE!" Cole bellowed over the howl of arriving fire trucks. "Dad, come ON!"

His father seemed determined to go back inside and keep beating up the fire with his broom. Cole struggled to pull him down the steps, losing his balance halfway down, sending them both sprawling onto the cement sidewalk.

"Are you _crazy?!_ " he shouted, his voice cracking. "You set the house on fire! You set it on fire!" He grabbed at his father's shirt to keep him from galumphing right back into the burning house. "You _are_ crazy!"

Cole's dad turned on him, eyes wide and wild, hair singed, face streaked with soot. From a few feet away Jay watched in a numb, horrified stupor as the man began to beat Cole with the broomstick. With sharp clarity he simultaneously took in the twisted snarl on the man's face, the embers spewing from the burning stick, the deft, grim swipes of Cole's arms as he blocked each blow, shielded his head. And yet the scene felt distant, unreal; the only part that seemed to reach him was the sound. Each morbid crack of wood against flesh was punctuated with a hysterical oath.

Cole was wearing down. Eventually he misjudged and the broom caught him in the skull. Crying out in pain, he threw himself against his father, slamming him to the ground and wrestling the broom out of his hands. He hurled it out of reach and pinned his father's shoulders to the sidewalk.

"That's what I get for saving you? That's what I get?!" he shouted into his face.

His father curled up like a pillbug under Cole's grip, convulsing, groping for a broomstick that wasn't there. Eventually he went limp and began to sob wildly.

Cole processed, then finally relaxed and let out an exhausted, hissing breath. After a moment he lifted his head, slowly, as if he already knew what he would see.

The neighbors were staring. A pair of firefighters. A policeman. They had all seen Cole's father beating him in a drunken rage.

Jay was near enough to see Cole's eyes turn empty and dead.

A firefighter stepped forward and placed his hand gently on Cole's shoulder.

"How old are you, son?"

Cole's head went down. He stared unseeingly at the ground as the firefighter helped him up, pulled him away from his still-bawling father. He kept staring in silence, head bowed, as the policeman asked him a few quiet questions.

Finally they began to lead him away, even as his eyes stayed fixed on the ground, even as he still didn't say a word.

Only, when he passed Jay, suddenly he lifted his head. He stopped drifting in the policeman's gentle tow and locked his eyes on Jay's. His voice was hoarse, foreign.

"I should have saved the money."

Then he was gone. Jay stared after the receding police car. He stared at the fire hoses, battling the fire still devouring the collapsing skeleton of Cole's house. He stared at Cole's father, moaning and whimpering on the ground as firefighters sternly ordered him to get up. Jay was filled with a sudden overpowering urge to kick in every last one of the man's ribs.

Instead he sleepwalked back to the bus stop. Got on the first bus that came. Maybe it was the right one. Hard to say.

The buses were mostly empty, late at night, and the passengers tended to be unsavory and sullen. Nobody paid much mind to a silent teenager huddled in the very back, ashes in his hair, tears streaking down his face.

* * *

Jay didn't want to go to school. He'd spent all weekend barely able to get out of bed, and he could hardly stand the thought of seeing Cole's empty desk in every class.

But he went. He sat through the lectures in a haze. The teachers asked him if he was okay. Classmates he barely knew asked if he was okay. He appreciated that they cared. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he knew he would eventually heal and move on. And he _hated_ himself for that.

At first he was afraid to force himself into Cole's misery, but soon he couldn't stand it anymore. He tried to phone him. He tried multiple times a day. Endless strings of texts. He never got an answer. Maybe the phone had gone up in the fire. Or maybe . . .

Slowly the days wore by. Slowly Jay got used to quiet afternoons alone. He was still surrounded by familiar faces, at least. He could still come home to his sympathetic parents.

But Cole had no one. Jay wondered where he was.

One day, Jay came to school feeling funny. He didn't feel _better_ , exactly. But somehow, strangely, he felt like he might feel better soon.

The feeling was ambiguous enough to exacerbate the usual little jab of melancholy as he stepped into the locker room. The noise and chaos were the same as ever, but something felt different.

There was a brisk knock on the locker-room door. Someone had forgotten their keycard. Jay was still closest to the door, so he turned around to get it. He stopped short, his face lighting up.

"Cole!"

"Hey man," said Cole. He looked and sounded subdued, but there was not a hint of anger. Jay took a second to talk himself out of tackling him in a hug. Bubbling delightedly, he stepped back to let Cole in.

"I can't believe it! I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again!" He kept his voice down, not wanting the whole locker room to hear.

"Yeah, I didn't know either," said Cole. He still gave no hint of emotion either way. Jay plunked down on a fairly private bench and eagerly motioned for Cole to sit next to him. He was grinning from ear to ear, but he could also feel a worried ache building in his gut. What if Cole had come to say goodbye?

Cole sat down next to him, but for a long time he didn't say anything. Jay waited, knowing how helpful long silences could be.

Cole never did speak up, though. He just kept staring down at his feet. Eventually Jay could stand it no longer.

"So . . . what's happening?" he asked cautiously.

"Foster care," said Cole.

Jay nodded and bit his lip.

"So, uh. Did you get a family?"

"Yeah," said Cole.

Another long silence. Jay's heart ached. He wanted so much for Cole to look up, to smile again. For everything to be better. Why did they have to be so sad? This was supposed to be the good ending. Cole had gotten away from his horrible life, had received a chance to live like a normal teenager. No more hiding bruises ever again. But instead of being relieved, he seemed sadder than he ever had with his father. It wasn't fair.

"Are they nice? Do you like them?" he finally prodded.

"They're . . . really nice, yeah." Cole searched for some more statements. "But they won't let me work anymore."

"Yeah, I guess they wouldn't. Un—underaged and everythin'." Jay swung his legs. More silence.

"Does this . . . " He swallowed. "Does this mean you have to change schools now?"

"No."

"Really?!" Jay's heart leaped. He angled his head to see Cole's face, bewildered by the distant look in his eyes. "That's great! That's great, isn't it?"

"I . . . I don't know." Cole finally looked at him, utterly lost. "It's _weird_."

"What's weird?"

"I thought I was gonna have to switch schools at first," said Cole. "Their address was really far away. My—my foster parents', I mean." He looked a little shaken at the term. "But then they said they were planning to move to a new place after they adopted, because their apartment wasn't big enough for three. And then they asked _me_ if I wanted to keep going to the same school." Cole shook his head, his forehead wrinkling. "I mean, a'course I said yes, but . . . It was just so weird. I mean . . . I . . . I shouldn't . . . "

"Shouldn't what?" Jay tilted his head. "Get a say in where you live?"

Cole squinted at him quizzically, nodding.

"I mean, that's not _that_ weird," said Jay.

Cole's squint narrowed into one of disbelief.

"It is pretty nice of them to let you choose," continued Jay, "but they probably want to make you feel, you know, welcome and stuff. And they probably figured you'd be happier if you could stay here."

Cole gave him a final long, hard look, then shook his head and went back to staring at the floor. Jay sucked in his breath, trying to find the right words.

"Look, Cole," he said, hoping he was coming off soothing and understanding. "I know it was important to you, having a job. Not needing anybody. I get it. But it can't be that bad to have normal parents, can it? I mean . . . it's only for a few years. And . . . and you won't have to hide in your room anymore. Nobody's gonna hit you anymore. You won't have to get all your own food. When you come home they'll ask you about your day, and—and they'll remember your birthday, and worry about you if you get sick, and . . . "

Abruptly he broke off. Cole was shuddering oddly.

"Cole? . . . " He froze when he saw Cole's eyes were squeezed shut, seeping tears. For a second he could only stare. Then he felt an inexplicable burst of irritation.

"Cole, come _on_. This is normal! Completely normal! Some people are going to care about you now. Some people besides me. Is that really so bad?"

He got the opposite of the desired effect. Cole sucked in a gasp of air, buried his face in his hands, and started to sob.

"I . . . " Jay sat in blank dismay. He just didn't know what to do with anything anymore, ever.

After a long moment, understanding crept over him.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

Impulsively he reached out and wrapped his arms around Cole, pulling him close. He knew he'd made the right choice when Cole turned to bury his face in his shoulder.

"It's okay," Jay murmured into his ear. "It's okay. You're going to love it. Just think, you're gonna have birthday parties. And family in-jokes. Maybe even a pet. Maybe _two_ pets. You can go to the beach in the summer, or maybe they're funny and you can have prank wars, or maybe you'll go fishing on weekends, or—"

"Jay. _You're winding me up on purpose, aren't you._ "

Cole was muffled and barely coherent, but he was _furious._ Jay couldn't help but laugh. He could feel Cole laughing through his tears too. First Spinjitzu Master, he was a mess.

And at first it was a strange feeling, being the strong one while Cole fell apart. But soon Jay realized it was actually deeply familiar. He'd never realized it might mean something to be the _only_ person in Cole's life who cared. The only person in the whole school who would keep Cole's secrets, offer kindness and understanding, push him to be a better person, yet still not demand he open up any more than he wanted to. Maybe he'd been giving Cole something worthwhile all along. That was an amazing thought. Almost as amazing as the realization that he'd no longer be the only one. Soon there would be days when Cole didn't think being cared about was some weird anomaly.

Ruffling Cole's hair, Jay turned to shield him from sight a little more. This kid had a "tough, edgy loner" persona to keep up. And be darned, if Jay wasn't gonna do everything he could to help him.


	6. I Leave You Alone for Three Seconds -

**A thousand crimson curses. This was supposed to be one chapter. It got SO LONG I had to split it in two. T_T**

 **But hey . . . wrangling teenagers isn't easy. Best I could do. I'll have the next chapter up in a week at most! Probably much less.**

* * *

"Is this something there are supposed to be rules about?" said Cole, stuffing papers into a pocket of his backpack. "I mean. It seems like this is kind of a rare thing, but . . . "

"What _are_ you calling them now, anyway?" asked Jay. He didn't know if he was amused or sympathetic. Probably both. He'd never in all time seen Cole caring what any adult thought about him, or how he came across, but now he was suddenly all concerned about what terms he should use for his foster parents.

"Well . . . nothing," said Cole. "At first when I met them I used 'Mr. and Mrs. Brookstone,' but that would just be weird if they're supposed to be my _parents_ now, right?"

"Yeah, pretty weird." Jay scooped up some textbooks and helped cram them into Cole's backpack. Cole would be missing school for a week while his foster parents moved and he settled in with them, so he needed to bring all his supplies to keep up with homework.

"So now I just . . . don't say anything," continued Cole, sitting back on his heels. "Just start talking without using names. But I can't keep doing that forever, and it's kinda rude, right?"

Jay tried not to laugh. Seriously; hearing Cole worrying about being rude was too weird. To hide his smile, he turned to grab some more textbooks.

"But I can't just start calling them 'Mom and Dad' either," continued Cole. "That just feels way too strange. Or they might think it's rushing things, you know? And I guess I could do first names, but I think that's supposed to be rude too, so I don't know . . . "

Jay could no longer suppress a muffled choking noise.

" _What?_ " said Cole. Jay tried to sober up and dissolved into giggles instead.

"So it's funny now," said Cole, miffed.

"No, no," said Jay, still laughing. "Never mind." When Cole only huffed and went back to stuffing his backpack, Jay relented and nudged him with one elbow. He smiled coaxingly at Cole's mock-offended look.

"Hey. Didn't they _tell_ you what they wanted to be called?"

"Nope."

"Maybe they're waiting for you to ask?" said Jay.

Cole visibly flinched at the thought, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"I don't know . . . "

"It can't hurt to ask," said Jay. "They won't get mad. Promise."

Cole said nothing, zipping up his backpack. Finally he stood and slung the pack over one shoulder, meeting Jay's eyes again.

"Well, I guess I could ask. I guess."

"Nice and polite," said Jay. "It'll work out."

Cole nodded, then lowered his eyes again. He shifted from foot to foot.

"So, uh . . . see you in a week, I guess . . . ?"

Jay's face fell. He'd been trying not to think about spending another week alone—even if it was under much happier circumstances this time.

"Yeah. See you in a week," he said at last. "Call me if you need any help with your homework, okay?"

"Geez," said Cole, but smirked gratefully. After a moment he reached over to muss up Jay's hair. "Don't get yourself beat up or something while I'm gone, okay?"

Jay growled in protest, trying to get out from under Cole's fist. Cole chuckled at his efforts and pulled Jay's jacket up over his head. By the time he got himself disentangled and got his hair out of his face, Cole was already a good distance down the hall.

"Hey—" began Jay, then sighed and didn't call out. His eyes softened as he watched Cole swing around the corner. He could guess that he'd been trying to avoid a mushy goodbye for fear he'd start choking up or something. The guy was still all _kinds_ of wreck just now. Hopefully he'd be feeling better after a week with his new parents.

. . . And have a better idea of what to call them, also. In the midst of his melancholy Jay stifled a snicker.

* * *

The week would have gone by much faster if Jay wasn't so good at making life hard for himself. When Cole had disappeared after the fire, Jay had just drifted through the days without really interacting with the world. There had been a few situations where he might have gotten into trouble, but he'd been too depressed to escalate anything.

Now, though, he was engaged with the world again, and trouble had its teeth jammed into his leg.

It started with his scarf. While he was putting on his jacket and hat, braced for the early-February cold, he had draped the scarf over a stair railing to keep it out of the way. A student from his chemistry class, one of the edgier guys, passed Jay on his way downstairs. While sliding his hand along the railing, he brushed the scarf off and sent it fluttering down through the center of the stairwell, to drape on the railing one floor down. Jay made a little dismayed noise and looked after the classmate, who had continued down the stairs without noticing.

"Hey," called Jay, before he could stop himself. "Clyde!"

Clyde paused. Lifting his head, he looked up through the stairwell. Jay gulped, regretting this already, but summoned his courage and pointed down.

"That's my scarf there. Could you toss it up?"

Clyde looked down where Jay was pointing, then grabbed the scarf. He glanced up at its owner. Then he smirked, wrapped the scarf around his own neck, and continued down the stairs.

"That's mine!" sputtered Jay. For a split-second he hovered in tormented indecision. Then, gritting his teeth, he pushed back from the railing and began to scurry down the stairs after Clyde, zigzagging deftly around passing students.

. . . Zigzagging deftly for the first three seconds, anyway. Then someone's backpack bumped against him, sending him flailing for balance. He grazed someone else, lost his footing, and ended up half-rolling down the last flight of stairs, bowling over some other student.

The first second was spent getting over the shock and disorientation of falling. The next was spent waiting for the sting of bumps and bruises to fade, indicating no lasting injuries had occurred. By the third second Jay could hear the mini-commotion taking place around him. A few students were calling startled "are you okay?!"s, while quite a few were laughing or jeering as they passed. Jay slowly started to get himself disentangled, feeling his face turning coal-hot. If death could just take him right this moment, please and thank you.

After a second he realized that the chatter around him had grown silent. Really, really silent, way too fast. He was just wondering if he should look up to see what had happened—

"Man, are you okay?"

The voice was right by his ear. He lifted his head to see who it was, feeling a strange prescient terror squirming in his gut—

Fear stabbed through him in earnest. Crouching next to him was Lloyd Garmadon, THE Lloyd Garmadon, son of the Dark Lord himself. The most terrifying guy in the school, on Jay's mental list.

Jay froze. When he'd said he wanted death to take him, he hadn't _meant_ it.

"Geez, relax," said Lloyd after a moment, looking a little frustrated but keeping his voice gentle. "I just want to know if you're okay."

Before Jay could even think of answering, the student he'd fallen onto pushed himself onto his elbows, giving an amused snort.

"How come nobody cares if _I'm_ okay?"

"You're not making enough noise to be hurt, bro," snarked a female voice from behind Jay. Lloyd muffled a silent laugh, which bubbled into a real one when Kai shoved him indignantly. Meanwhile Jay hastily scrambled back to get off Kai, while keeping a cautious eye on Lloyd, and succeeded in bumping into the presumed female behind him. Tensing all over again, he twisted around to see if she was angry—then sort of just went deathly silent.

Wow.

He'd seen Nya before, of course. Sort of. He'd realized right from the start that Lloyd, Kai, and Nya always hung out together, so mentally he'd lumped them all into one "most dangerous" entity. As such, he would always note their location and hastily look away, anxious that eye contact would attract their wrath.

So he'd really only had passing glimpses of Nya, and . . . yeah. "Wow" pretty much covered it.

Nya tilted her head, blinking down at Jay in confusion. After a moment she offered him a hand up. He looked at it, wondering if he dared touch such a marvelous being.

"Ahhh . . . you didn't hit your head, did you?" Nya squinted dubiously. After a moment she just reached down and hauled Jay up by the arms.

"Ya look okay," she said, slapping up and down his disheveled jacket to dust it.

"He _looks_ like he's about to pass out," corrected Kai, more observant. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"

Jay looked around at the trio of teenagers more or less surrounding him. After a moment he realized that Kai had moved to get a better look at him, leaving an opening between himself and the wall. Jay didn't screw around; he took it. Lloyd, Nya, and Kai looked after him in bewilderment as he shot past and disappeared.

* * *

At school the next morning, Jay was miserable. He watched with a heavy heart as Clyde came swaggering in, still wearing the stolen scarf. The orange seemed to glow in the muted winter light, taunting Jay's inadequacy.

This was wretched. That scarf had been a Christmas present from Cole. He probably wouldn't be angry at Jay for losing it, but he'd be disappointed that he didn't stand up for himself. And he'd doubtless figure out some way to get the scarf back, but the thought of asking Cole to fix the mess he'd created filled Jay with shame. Besides, Clyde might have lost or ruined the scarf by the time Cole came back.

So Jay knew he had to do _something_. He just wasn't sure what.

He was brooding over all this as he put away his history books.

"Hi there," said a voice just behind him. He jumped a mile and whirled around.

Oh, _crud._ There was Lloyd. Kai and Nya too. Had they come to pay him back for yesterday?

Clutching his textbooks, Jay eyed them warily. There was no room to run at this moment. He pried his eyes away from Nya, knowing that too long a glance would suck him in.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing," said Lloyd, pretending not to notice Jay's fight-or-flight posture. "Bumps aren't coming out on the second day?"

Jay squinted.

"I'm fine," he said at last.

The other teenagers nodded absently, shuffling their feet. Jay waited for them to go away. They didn't.

"The other thing, is everything okay with you?" said Lloyd. "You usually hang out with Cole, right? But we haven't seen him around lately."

Jay's eyebrows shot up. All that effort Cole had always made to cover up his friendship with Jay—how did these kids see through that?!

"Yeah, we did notice it." Kai smiled ruefully at Jay's expression. "Not like we're nosy or anything, but we sorta keep tabs on all the other students, ya know? Helps to keep a mental list—avoid this guy, don't worry about that guy, who's dangerous, who's not. The usual. So we notice who's tight, too."

Jay scrabbled for a moment, completely thrown. For a second the only thought in his head was "that sounds just like what I do all the time!" But then he hastily shoved that thought away. What was he _doing_ , finding common ground with the spawn of evil? He was heading for the dark side at this rate.

"So yeah. Do you know if Cole's okay?" said Lloyd, shifting from foot to foot. "No life disasters or anything?"

Jay's eyes narrowed now. Ahhhh, he saw where this was going. They wanted to pry out information so they could find Cole and hurt him. Nice try!

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, lifting his head and pulling back his shoulders. "And who asked you anyway?"

"Woah, easy, easy." Lloyd raised his hands placatingly. "Nevermind then."

"You're asking an awful lot of questions." Jay glared. "Why don't you back off, huh?"

"We just wanted to—"

"Well, _don't!_ "

"I—" began Lloyd, then faltered when Jay glared harder. Nya laid a hand on Lloyd's shoulder, sighing.

"Come on, Lloydster. We've gotta hopeless case here. Give it up."

Jay twitched, surprisingly stung at Nya's term for him. By the time he'd recovered from that, he realized something: Lloyd and the twins were walking away. They'd left.

Jay stared, letting this moment sink in. They'd _left_. He'd scared them off. The most dangerous kids in the school, the bastions of darkness, three against one, and he'd stood up for himself and _chased them away_.

He leaned back against his locker, giddy with delight. What a feeling. What a power rush. He felt like he could do anything now, like he could stand up to anyone, like he could—

—Like he could get his scarf back from Clyde.

 _Heck yes._

* * *

After school, Jay watched the orange glow of his scarf receding, still nestled around Clyde's neck as he ambled off to the equipment shed at the edge of the school's property. Now was the time.

Head high, Jay marched after Clyde. For maybe the first time in the last decade, his head wasn't flooded with panicky thoughts. He wasn't frantically churning over "what-ifs" or listing out all the ways this might end in death or dismemberment. He had only one goal, one single unquestionable plan: March right up to Clyde. Ask for his scarf back. Don't back down until you get it.

When he rounded the corner of the equipment building, he stopped in surprise. Clyde was there—the neon scarf jumped first into Jay's eye—but he wasn't alone. There were four other teens back here as well. Most of them were lounging against the wall of the equipment shed, hands sunk into their pockets.

Jay's resolve faltered, but only the tiniest bit. Eh, so there would be some witnesses. Good, maybe that would pressure Clyde into doing the right thing.

But then his eyes landed on something in Clyde's hand: a plastic bag. Just a little ziplock plastic sandwich bag. Full of a sparkling white powder.

The world turned a somersault without including Jay. Drugs. Clyde and his friends were back here doing drugs. He forgot all about the scarf.

"What are you _doing?!_ " he blurted.

Clyde and his friends had been focusing their attention on the baggie as Clyde hungrily opened it, but now they all started and whipped their heads around.

"Oh heyyyy, Fluffy." After a moment of startled silence, Clyde laughed and held out the bag. "Care to join us?"

Jay spluttered.

"We're a Drug Free School Zone!"

"Fizzims." One of the other teens pinched the bridge of his nose, laughing in disbelief. "Who let the second-graders in here?"

Jay's face grew hot as the other teens laughed in agreement. Clyde waved a hand for silence, then smiled wearily at Jay.

"Look, bro. If you're not cool like that, just turn around and walk away, all right? You didn't see anything."

Jay glared at him for a moment, his teeth set. Then he whirled on his heel and stormed away.

. . . More accurately, stormed about three feet away. Then a hand suddenly snatched the back of his jacket and dragged him backwards, slammed him against the wall of the equipment shed, pinned him there. He yelped as his head banged against the siding.

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Clyde. "You really thought we'd _let_ you?"

"Let me go!" snapped Jay, adrenaline unlocking every ounce of long-suppressed aggression in his body.

He did not have many ounces. Some other teen might have kicked Clyde in the groin by now, or even bucked off that sloppy hold on the right arm and rearranged Clyde's face. All Jay could do was struggle.

"FSM," Clyde groaned. "What do we do with this moron."

"Maybe rough him up till he promises to keep quiet?" suggested one of the other guys.

"Ahh, everyone's just gonna ask where he got beat up," said one of the girls, folding her arms. "He'll rat."

"Well, we can fix that," said the other girl. Grinning, she dug into her pocket and pulled out a small wooden object. A second later something clicked, and a long, glistening blade jumped out of its slot in the wooden handle.

This was really more than Jay had signed up for. He began to thrash against the two guys who were now holding him, and sucked in his breath to scream for help—

—Only for his own scarf to be jammed into his mouth, the bunched orange fabric bitter against his tongue. He gagged helplessly as Clyde shoved the scarf deeper and tied back the ends so Jay couldn't spit it out. Eyes watering from the struggle to breathe, Jay darted his gaze among the teens surrounding him, bloodlust glinting in their eyes.

"Gimme the blade, Vi," said Clyde, gesturing. He leaned in close to Jay, his breath brushing his face. With a rough hand on Jay's forehead, he pushed his head back and held it steady.

"You know how it is, buddy. Snitches get stitches . . . If they're lucky."

Jay bucked, choking against the gag, deaf with the roaring of blood in his head, blinded with panicked tears. He was gonna die. He was gonna _die_. This was it. The end.

The blade glinted in the corner of his eye, then slipped out of view. Burning, searing pain trailed across his throat. He screamed through the scarf, black spots flashing in his eyes.

"Damn, look at it go!" Clyde pulled back, his eyes sparkling in admiration at the sluice of blood slithering down Jay's neck. "Perfect."

"He's still making noises, the voicebox is deeper." The girl who owned the switchblade jostled Clyde's arm. "Either do it right or gimme that."

Jay was nearly insensate already; he'd mostly disconnected from the world. All he knew was that he kept waiting for another slice, but instead he only heard screaming, and it didn't seem to be his own. Then the pressure holding him against the shed disappeared, and he slumped forward. He hit _something_ instead of the ground. There was a buzzing in his ear. The scarf was still in his mouth and he couldn't really breathe.

He shut his eyes and passed out.

* * *

To his own surprise, Jay awoke. He was pretty sure he awoke, anyway. For a while he was scared to check.

After a while, though, he became aware of a sharp, clean smell, vaguely familiar. There were some quiet voices discussing nearby. One of them sounded a little worried, but the other was so nice and so soothing. Wherever Jay had landed, it might not be so bad.

Hesitantly he cracked open his eyes. The sheet of white he first saw got him a little worried, but after a moment he realized there was the top of a cabinet off to one side. He must be looking at a ceiling? . . .

He tried to lift his head, then gave a little yelp of pain as the front of his neck seemed to catch fire.

"Oh, he's up!" The worried voice sounded relieved now. "Is he okay?"

"Jay, hun." Someone moved nearby, and the face of the school nurse drifted into Jay's view. "Hi there! How are you feeling, buddy?"

"Nurse Haskall?" Jay croaked, blinking blearily.

"You got it. Take it easy, hun, we've got a bandage on the front of your neck," said Nurse Haskall. "You really lucked out. There was a lot of important stuff just about where you got hurt, but none of it was hit."

"So he's gonna be okay?" The second voice came from Jay's left. He moved his eyes as far as he could and turned his head the tiniest bit.

Oh, _crud._ Lloyd again. What was with that kid following Jay around now?!

"Hi," said Lloyd, smiling tiredly at Jay. "Good thing I found you when I did, huh?"

Jay blinked in silence. He noticed bandages over Lloyd's hands, and one over his shin. That one was stained with fresh red.

"Chain-link fence," said Lloyd, following Jay's gaze. "You know, the one around the school. The top is sharp, and—" He started as his phone began to buzz. "Oh no. Sorry, I—hang on."

He nodded quickly to Nurse Haskall and hurried out to the hall for some privacy. Jay could hear a "Hello? No, I'm okay, I swear, I swear!" just before the door closed.

Jay didn't move for a bit, but watched Nurse Haskall from the corner of his eye. He was really confused right now. Nurse Haskall was really nice. He and Cole had gotten their school immunizations from her, and she'd been so comforting and sympathetic when Jay had gotten food poisoning one day, or when Cole had hit his head during gym class. So he knew she must be okay. But then, why did she seem so calm and comfortable around _Lloyd Garmadon?_ Why had she bandaged him up just like she bandaged Jay? Was it just some kind of magical nurse superpower, being so dedicated to healing that you didn't care if someone was evil?

"You really were lucky Lloyd found you," remarked Nurse Haskall as she worked. "Good thing he was walking home today and saw you, he usually takes the bus."

Jay blinked.

"You . . . know him?" he said slowly, wincing as his Adam's apple rubbed against his injury.

Nurse Haskall apparently caught the note of horror in Jay's voice. She looked up a little sharply, and for a moment she didn't say anything.

"I know, you expect him to be evil, right?" she said at last, quietly. "Like his father."

Jay didn't say anything.

"I used to worry about that too," said Nurse Haskall, turning back to the supplies she was tidying. "Every time a kid came in with an injury, I would ask where they got it and wait for them to say Lloyd did it. But they never did. I've never seen a single kid hurt by Lloyd, or by his friends."

Jay squirmed. He wanted to point out that a lot of kids were probably just scared of retaliation. Look at what happened to _him_. He sure wasn't about to risk ratting out Clyde now.

"But you know what I did see?" said Nurse Haskall. "I saw Lloyd coming in with injuries every other week."

Jay's previous protest died rapidly.

"I've treated him dozens of times already, and it hasn't even been a full school year," continued Nurse Haskall. "His friends too. Scrapes, cuts, bruises. Bloody noses. Black eyes. I've seen it all—yet I never see 'the other guy'. Those kids get beat up and don't fight back."

Jay swallowed gingerly.

"They never complain," said Nurse Haskall, her eyes distant. "They never tell me who attacked them. They're always so grateful and polite. They usually come in pairs, or all three at once, to support each other and calm each other down when one gets hurt." She shook her head. "All I've ever seen is three really, really sweet kids. For the first few months I kept waiting for something to go wrong, you know, for the evil to show through. It never did."

Jay blinked slowly, trying to make sense of this. It was really making his head spin. Could this be a long-running trick? Could Lloyd and his friends be fooling Nurse Haskall this successfully? But . . . Lloyd had saved him . . .

The door opened again.

"Awww, do I really need stitches?" said Lloyd, giving Nurse Haskall a pleading look.

"Sorry, buddy. That's not gonna heal on its own," she said, nodding to his leg.

"Ahhh, man." Lloyd sank despondently into a chair.

"I know, I know." Nurse Haskall patted his shoulder as she passed. "Jay, your mom's on her way over here as well, I'm afraid you're going to need stitches too. Are you boys going to be okay here while I go let your moms in? It's after hours, the school doors are locked."

"Sure, I'm okay," said Lloyd. Jay hesitated, and hesitated hard, but finally made a little noise of assent. Nurse Haskall gave him a proud smile as she left, shutting the door behind her.

Jay tried not to think about how tense he now was. Just focus on breathing at a normal rate, everything would be fine. Lloyd wouldn't tear himself up to rescue him, then kill him himself. Would he?

Lloyd seemed pretty tense too. He swung his legs, looking down at his feet. The silence seemed to stretch on forever.

Suddenly there was a commotion out in the hall, and the door burst open.

"Bro! Bro, not _again!_ "

Kai and Nya came bounding through, rushing for Lloyd, who laughed muffledly as Kai glommed onto him.

"Ow, ow, not so tight! I don't wanna get broken ribs set too."

"'Too'?" Nya groaned. "Stitches _again?_ "

"Ugh . . . " Lloyd slouched, tousling his hair. "My mom's gonna flip."

Off to the side, Jay knit his brows. Lloyd had a mom, capable of flipping? Gosh. That had not occurred to him.

"What did he do to you?" asked Nya, flicking a suspicious glare back at Jay. His heart turned to water, though he wasn't sure if it was because she was looking at him like he'd just murdered someone or just because she was looking at him.

"He didn't do anything!" Lloyd waved his hands. "I saw some jerks trying to cut him up, so I got scratched up climbing over the chain-link fence to get in."

Nya nodded in understanding, then gave Jay another dirty look.

"You again," she said. "You better appreciate this, punk."

Jay only stared up at her in silent, terrified awe.

"Stop scarin' him, Nya," said Kai reproachfully.

Nya pulled her glare from Jay, but shook her head and muttered "jerk" loudly enough for him to hear. He cringed, ashamed and nettled and aroused all at once.

"What—what happened to the other guys?" he blurted, his voice harsh against his bandaged throat. All these uncomfortable feelings that he'd been wrong would go away pretty fast if it turned out Lloyd had slaughtered Clyde and all the others.

Lloyd and his friends looked a little startled that Jay had actually spoken.

"Ah, they ran away," said Lloyd at last, shrugging. "I threw my backpack to get their attention, and then, well . . . " He dropped his head. "You know, it's pretty easy to scare people, when you're me. I told them I'd . . . call over my dad, and stuff. They bought it."

"Lloyd, you _know_ you shouldn't use that bargaining chip, it only makes things worse for you," chided Nya. But her voice was so much gentler than the one she'd used on Jay.

"Hey, it works," sighed Lloyd. "And heck, they probably expected me to do it anyway."

"Are you gonna?" squeaked Jay, paralyzed with terror all over again.

"What, call him?" Lloyd gave a sharp, painful laugh. "He doesn't even know I exist."

Jay blinked, once again utterly thrown. Before he could say anything, the door opened.

"Lloyd, oh my goodness." A woman in a suit came rushing in. "Not again! Are you okay? Let me look at you."

"Mom, I'm fine, I'm fine!" Lloyd waved his hands placatingly, while Kai and Nya parted to let Koko barge through. "I know, I'm sorry, it was an accident, I didn't mean to—M-mommmmm, not in front of my friends . . . gah . . . "

"It's not like we're not used to it," said Nya, rolling her eyes good-naturedly as Koko smothered Lloyd in a hug and planted a kiss in his hair.

"All right honey." Koko finally pulled back with a sigh, trying to compose herself. "Let's get you to the doctor. Kai, Nya, are you kids coming?"

"You bet, Mrs. G!" said Nya. "Our folks dropped us off here already, they know where we'll be."

Koko nodded and turned to Jay.

"Are you gonna be okay here alone?" Her eyebrows drew together when she saw Jay's bandage. "Oh my _goodness_. Are you all right?"

He gazed silently at her face. This was her. Lloyd Garmadon's mom. The wife (ex-wife?) of Lord Garmadon. She looked so _normal_. The tired eyes, the concerned face, the motherly voice. With a pang he thought of his own mom.

"His mom's coming over soon too," put in Lloyd. He hesitated. "She's . . . she's probably gonna be pretty freaked out, you know, probably the first time he needs stitches . . . " He eyed Jay. "You want us to, you know, give you some privacy?"

"Yeah," rasped Jay after a moment. "I'll be okay."

The Garmadons and the Smiths said some goodbyes and headed out. Jay listened to their voices fading away, wondering what he was going to say when his own mom arrived. He was so overwhelmed. He'd literally had his throat slit barely an hour ago; literally come within millimeters of dying. He'd been rescued by _Lloyd freakin' Garmadon_ , the exact last person in all of Ninjago he expected to owe his life to. And Nurse Haskall had said Lloyd wasn't a bad kid. His friends weren't bad kids. And . . . and that almost seemed to add up. Lloyd had really caring friends who came back to school to be with him when he was hurt, and a mom who loved him and worried about him. And he loved them all too. Just like any other kid.

Jay sighed, lost in the strangeness of it all. As he cautiously pushed himself upright, preparing for his mom to arrive, his eyes fell on the table next to him. The orange scarf that had been used to gag him was lying there, stained with spit and blood. He stared at it for a moment. Then he plucked it off the table and hid it away in his jacket.


	7. This Makes Pulling Teeth Look Easy

**Finallllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. T_T**

* * *

Jay's parents had been pretty scared to let him go back to school the next day. Frankly, he'd been pretty scared to go. Clyde and the others might be out to finish the job. But, he told himself, if he didn't go to school today, how would it get any safer tomorrow? How about the day after that? And then what about next week? How would he see Cole again, at that rate?

So he went. He regretted it pretty fast, because the instant he walked in through the door he saw Clyde.

Clyde hadn't yet seen him. Jay put his head down and walked towards his locker, praying he'd go unnoticed. Hands shaking, he entered the combination and began to pull out his books. At every second he expected a blow to the head, or a slice on the back of his neck to match the fresh stitches on the front.

"Oh hey, Jay!"

Lloyd. Again.

Jay froze, one hand still on a textbook. What was this. Why did he suddenly feel _less scared?_ Here was Lloyd Garmadon, and all of a sudden Jay thought being with him instead of alone might be the _safer option._

Well, the feeling wasn't going away. He'd gone flat-out crazy. Might as well embrace it. He turned around, offering a timid smile.

"Oh . . . uh . . . h-hi . . . "

"Still standing?" asked Lloyd, smiling. "Hey, sorry I kinda dragged everyone away and left you alone yesterday. I thought your mom would probably be freaked, and then she'd freak out even more if she saw . . . you know. Me."

His gaze slid to the floor for a moment. Jay fumbled, surprised. He hadn't realized that had been Lloyd's rationale, but that was . . . actually kind of considerate. Like—like Lloyd realized people were scared of him, and instead of enjoying it or not caring or even being angry that people didn't like him, he just accepted it and tried to avoid scaring them if he could.

"I'm fine," stammered Jay at last. "I . . . " He sucked in his breath. "Uh, thanks. For yesterday. For saving me."

"Heyyy, no big deal." Lloyd gave him an awkward smile. For maybe the first time, Jay looked at him without a lens of fear over his eyes. He was just Jay's height. His hair was a little messy. He had an N-pop patch on his backpack, and a little keychain shaped like a peace sign. And most of all, there was something in his smile—in his eyes, like he was reaching out, pleading so hard for acceptance, yet at the same time scared to death he'd be driven away. Jay hadn't even realized the feeling of something hard and uncomfortable lodged in his chest—he only noticed when it suddenly melted away, leaving something warm and comforting behind. Something that felt like trust.

"Bro!"

The moment evaporated when Kai suddenly came bounding over, Nya chugging just behind.

"Bro, don't look now, but Clyde is looking this way," whispered Kai, grabbing Lloyd's arm. "And I don't know which one of you he's looking at, but he's really not writing you any love poems right now."

"Ergh." Lloyd laughed uneasily. "I never did like poetry . . . "

Meanwhile Jay surreptiously peered around him, trying to see where Clyde was. Lloyd noticed.

"You, uh . . . wanna stay with us for the day?" he offered. "You know . . . like, witness protection program, sorta." He seemed to backtrack. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, I just, I thought you might, it might be . . . "

"Sure," said Jay. He didn't even hesitate. "Could I?"

Something came to life in Lloyd's eyes. Kai and Nya also seemed to brighten, looking at Jay as if he'd heroically rescued a whole bushel of orphan kittens. Jay found himself blushing and looking at the floor.

"Well hey, welcome aboard," said Lloyd at last. "We're all in the same first class, so . . . let's go?"

Jay nodded, shutting his locker. Here he went. Off with Lloyd Garmadon. FSM unpreceded.

"You've got a li'l bit of an accent, doncha?" said Nya as they started off. "What kind? 's cute."

Jay never could remember what he said in reply to that, but smooth was probably one thing it wasn't.

* * *

The week went by fast. At first Jay and his new friends stuck close together at all times, keeping a wary eye out for Clyde. With time they began to cluster more loosely, but still came together for lunch and chatted in the halls.

Initially Jay was a little cautious, watching for any sign that these kids might be dangerous after all. He didn't get any, though. Nurse Haskall had been right—Jay was horrified at how much hate he saw Lloyd taking, how many cruel notes he cleaned off his locker, how many cold looks and harsh words he got in the halls. And never a word of retaliation. Sometimes Jay would see Nya's fists twitching, a murderous look in her eyes, but Lloyd would always give her a pleading look and shake his head, holding her back.

Nobody could peacefully tolerate that much hate and still be evil, Jay decided. Besides, after a few days he couldn't have feared Lloyd if he _tried._ Kai and Nya had committed themselves to telling endless cute and semi-embarrassing stories about Lloyd, usually over the protesting groans of the subject. Jay was well aware they were trying to convince him once and for all that Lloyd wasn't scary—but even so, it still worked.

"It's raining, man," said Kai, looking out the window as they ate lunch. "Better hurry up so you have time to go out for the worms."

"It's freezing, I'm not going out," said Lloyd, already looking resigned.

"But the _worms_ , Lloyd. All those poor little worms stuck on the sidewalk . . . Trapped . . . Just waiting for you to come save them, waiting and waiting, but no one ever comes . . . "

"Worms don't come out in the winter!" groaned Lloyd, hiding behind his sandwich. "Guyyyyyyyys. I stopped doing that when I was like ten."

"Pfff. You think we're _blind_ or somethin'?" Nya poked him in the side. He flinched away, giving her a stern look, which of course encouraged her to poke him again.

"Donnnnn't even _think_ about it," he warned. Nya narrowed her eyes, and Lloyd immediately stiffened and moved to escape. Too late; Nya had already pounced and pulled his arms back, while Kai scooted in from the other side and began tickling him. From across the table Jay muffled his giggles, torn between sympathy for the poor kid and the contagiousness of his laughter.

The scuffle only lasted two seconds before Nya's elbow knocked over a glass, spilling juice across the table.

"Ah, geez!" She released Lloyd and grabbed for a napkin. Jay grabbed his own and tried to help her catch the rivulets of juice before they reached the table edge, while Kai and Lloyd exchanged a final few shoves before they turned to help as well.

"Gah, we need more napkins," said Nya. "Hold it until I get back!"

"I'll help you get them!" volunteered Jay at once, scrambling to his feet. Nya gave him a funny look, but the juice was still spreading and there was no time to argue. She hurried off across the cafeteria, Jay scampering in her wake.

"We really could have used some more help here!" groaned Kai, mopping an already-soaked napkin all around the table's edge. "Doesn't take two to carry napkins."

"He has a crush on her, genius." Lloyd grinned in mixed amusement and exasperation at Kai's obtuseness.

"Whaaaaaa?" Kai's head snapped up.

"Yeah, geez." Lloyd chuckled. "Haven't you seen the way he looks at her? And how he gets all awkward and stammery whenever he tries to talk to her?"

"Ohhhhhh." Kai lapsed into thought, heedless of the juice now dripping into his lap. "Now it makes sense! I noticed he was acting weird sometimes, I just couldn't figure out the pattern."

Lloyd shook his head, laughing.

"Is Nya okay with it?" asked Kai, finally noticing the juice and hastily resuming his mopping.

"I don't think she realizes either." Lloyd nodded across the cafeteria to where Nya was yanking napkin after napkin out of a dispenser. Jay hovered by her side, rocking from his heels to his toes, wringing his hands a little and clearly trying to figure out how to be helpful.

Kai observed this tableau for a while, brows knitted.

"Should we tell her, or something?"

"I don't know." Lloyd shrugged and looked to Jay again. "I get the feeling he thinks he's being inconspicious about it."

"So you mean, like . . . he doesn't want her to know?"

"Maybe?" Lloyd shrugged again. "I dunno, I think we should just let them work it out for themselves. Don't be weird about it, or anything."

"'Course not." Kai looked offended that Lloyd would even suggest it. When Jay and Nya came back with fistfuls of napkins, though, Kai non-too-subtly scooted over, making room for them to stand next to each other as they mopped. Then he none-too-subtly scooted back, forcing them a little closer together. Off to the side Lloyd facepalmed, laughing silently. Kai could be such a dork.

Jay was a good judge of character. As the days went by, he figured out more and more about the dynamic between Lloyd and the twins. Nya was the savage one, Kai was the cautious one. Lloyd mediated. Nya, aside from being _amazing_ of course, was in love with motocross and hard rock and rather unexpectedly, collecting Unikitty merch. She could sometimes be a little rough with others' feelings, but she always backed down immediately once she realized she'd crossed a line. Kai was affectionate and a little sensitive—not that Jay was judging, he could relate—but also had a mischievous streak. He loved pranks, little harmless silly ones, and he and Lloyd were constantly messing with each other. Generally until Nya lost patience with their shenanigans and put them both in their place.

And Lloyd himself—Lloyd was a sweetie. He was maybe a little quieter than either of the twins, but Jay could see the way he listened to others, thinking about what they said, checking for any signs they were distressed and needed help. A little bit of an old soul. A little bit beaten down by all the hate he got, receding gradually into a protective shell. It reminded Jay so much of Cole.

Speaking of Cole. Every now and then Jay would remember him and feel a pang of guilt. Was it wrong to go out and get new friends the minute Cole was gone? Would Cole feel abandoned when he got back?

Jay resolved not to let that happen. He'd make sure to let Cole know that they were still best friends—just that now, they could both have three other friends, too. They would both be so much happier this way.

* * *

That was not how it worked.

"So how's the neck, Jayster?" asked Nya that Monday morning. "Stitches coming out soon?"

"N-not just yet," stammered Jay. His hand strayed to the orange scarf he still wore, even though he was indoors. He had taken to wearing it all the time—he couldn't stand it when others stared at the giant, raw, ragged red slash mark across the front of his neck.

"Can I see?" asked Nya. Jay tugged down the scarf shyly. Nearby Kai grimaced and looked away, while Lloyd's eyebrows drew together in a sympathetic wince, but Nya only surveyed the slash with admiration.

"Oh, you are gonna have a _wicked_ scar. So cool."

"You think so?" Jay looked crestfallen.

"Yeah, when they're that big they scar. Look at this one." Nya dragged aside the neck of her sweater, revealing a pink-white valley in the skin of her shoulder. "I _hate_ that they couldn't get me a little more towards the middle. I can't find any shirts that show this one off." She looked to Lloyd, who was shaking his head. "You're gonna be lucky, see, that new one is gonna show _so_ well when you wear shorts in the summer."

"And that's a good thing?" Lloyd gave her a tired smile. "You could wear a tank top, you know. That'd show off yours."

"Bleghhhh . . . Not sure I'm willing to make that trade . . . " Nya made a face. "Maybe I should just go topless."

" _Nya!_ " said Kai, aghast.

"Juuuuust messin' with you." Nya nudged him, snickering. She looked to Jay and raised her eyebrows when she found him staring off down the hallway, ignoring the epic scars conversation. "Whassup?"

"Oh—uh—sorry!" Jay hastily whipped around. "Just—I was just looking for—" He hesitated. "For Cole. He comes back today."

"Ohhhhh. Cool!" Kai grinned. "So he's okay?"

"Yeah, he had . . . " Jay hesitated again. "Family stuff. Pretty—pretty private family stuff, kinda—"

"Got it, got it." Kai waved his hands, indicating Jay could stop there. "Well hey, uh . . . So . . . "

Jay was still looking down the hall, but he wrinkled his forehead at the way Kai's voice trailed off. What was all that about?

Before he could ask, though, he saw a flash of black moving at the end of the hallway.

"That's him!" Jay's eyes lit up. "I'm gonna go say hi! Later guys!"

He whisked off down the hall, not noticing the despondent expressions he left behind.

Jay felt a little burst of happiness go through him when he first got a good look at Cole—dumping his books back into his locker, wearing clothes a little nicer than he used to, and even better with the faintest hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. He turned around, and when he saw Jay the smile turned into a full one.

"Hey," he said, as if he hadn't been away for a whole week.

"You're back!" Jay was smiling so hard his face hurt. He kinda wanted a hug right now (being around Kai this long had got him spoiled), but he figured Cole wouldn't go for that so he hung back. "How is it? How's everything?"

"It's great," said Cole, more honestly than Jay was used to. "It's been crazy, but . . . pretty great."

"You're gonna have to tell me all about it!" Jay bounced on the balls of his feet. "And I have so much to tell you too!"

Just then the bell rang, and students began dashing to classes.

"Talk at lunch?" called Jay hopefully.

"Can't! Gotta turn in all my stupid makeup homework," Cole called back. "After school, okay?"

"You got it!"

* * *

Jay and Cole didn't have many chances to talk during the day, but Jay would periodically catch Cole's eye and beam at him extra-hard from across the room. Cole would smile and roll his eyes, struggling not to laugh at the intensity of Jay's happiness. It felt so good to be back in the old routine.

Towards the end of the day, Jay hurried over to confer with Kai, Nya, and Lloyd.

"We're gonna meet after school, in the vacant lot across the street!" he told them. "You guys want to come? I'll introduce you!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Nya quietly.

"Am I . . . what?" Jay looked around, startled at the others' downcast eyes. "Wait, what's going on?"

"People don't like us a whole lot, Jay," said Kai. "Do you think he'll want to be friends?"

"Hanging around with us kinda kills your popularity," said Nya flatly.

"What?" Jay laughed. "No, it'll be fine, I promise! Cole doesn't care what anyone thinks. And he _really_ doesn't care about being popular. We're all going to get along great!"

The others exchanged hesitant glances.

"Well . . . maybe you should sorta ease him into it," said Nya at last. "We'll be over at the mini-mart getting slushies after school. You can tell Cole about us, and if he's cool, you can come meet us there, huh?"

"Geez." Jay quirked an eyebrow, unsure where all this hesistancy was coming from. At last he shrugged. "Well, okay. But don't worry, it's gonna go fine!"

"I hope so," was all Lloyd said.

Jay snorted, shaking his head as he turned to leave for his final class. What were these kids so skittish about? Cole was cool, they were cool, they were all going to be great friends. He couldn't wait.

But as headed off, he saw Cole down the hall. He was staring at Jay with wide, horrified eyes—more upset than Jay could ever remember seeing him.

Uh-oh.

* * *

Jay felt a liiiiittle less excited now, heading towards the vacant lot after school. Cole was already there.

" _Why were you talking to them?!_ " he barked the second he saw Jay.

Major uh-oh.

"Cole, wait! Calm down!" Jay waved his hands. "It's okay, I promise."

"Do you even know who those kids _are?_ " hissed Cole. "That's the son of Lord Garmadon! Those are two kids who _choose to hang out with him!_ I thought you were the one who didn't want to die!"

"I'm not gonna die!" Jay flailed helplessly. "Cole, just wait. Let me explain. They're all really nice! We were wrong about them! We can all be friends—"

"Be _friends?_ Are you serious? Have you been hanging around with them?" Cole glared. His tone was so accusatory that Jay got defensive.

"Yeah, all week," he said defiantly. "And they've been really, really nice."

Cole's eyes became hard.

"Did you tell them about me?"

Jay paused, thrown.

"Tell them what about you?"

"Don't try to stall!" Cole took a step toward him, his voice rising. "You told them about my parents, didn't you? I just barely get a new family and you're going to get them _killed?_ You stupid little—"

" _Cole!_ " Jay backed up a little. He wasn't really scared, but he was having a serious emotional earthquake right now. One part of him was melting into a warm gooey mess at the realization that Cole already loved his new parents and was this worried about their safety. Another part of him was absolutely furious that his best friend, who should understand all about being unloved and misunderstood, would be just like everyone else and think sweet, harmless, innocent Lloyd Garmadon was some kind of demon.

After a second he registered the names Cole had just called him, and the furious side won. He bristled up and gave Cole a shove—just a light, rather timid one, even by Jay's standards, but it got the message across. Cole looked startled for a second, then growled and shoved back. _Definitely_ a light shove by Cole's standards, but it still sent Jay sprawling back into the frozen dirt. He stared up at Cole in a mixture of shock and fury—though mostly he probably just looked betrayed—and saw matching shock and regret flash into Cole's eyes. The dark-haired teen hesistated, and seemed about to reach out a hand in apology—but suddenly a shout rang out nearby.

" _Don't hurt him!_ "

Cole whirled. There was Lloyd, hands up placatingly, but eyes hard. Kai and Nya were peering around the gate of the vacant lot, ready to jump in if a brawl started.

"Leave him alone." Lloyd's voice was like a command. "If you want to fight someone, take it out on me."

Cole's eyes narrowed. His head went down, his fists drifted up. Kai and Nya grew animated, tense. Lloyd stood his ground, boring his eyes into Cole and waiting for the blow.

"Cole, don't!" Jay cut into the tension.

Cole's aggressive stance faltered. He looked back to Jay, who shook his head pleadingly. Then he looked at Lloyd, still waiting in silence. For a moment an expression of the deepest hatred twisted across Cole's face . . . but then he whirled on his heel and strode away. Kai and Nya shot away from the gate like rabbits from a wolf.

Lloyd looked after Cole until he disappeared out the gate, then turned to help Jay up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "We saw what was happening from the mini-mart, and . . . "

"He wasn't going to hurt me," said Jay. He caught the flash of doubt in Lloyd's eyes. "Honest. I've known Cole for ages, he's gotten way angrier than that and not hurt me. He was just about to back down, I promise. He was just . . . startled, right now. And I started it."

"You're sure?" Lloyd gave him a searching look.

"Positive." Jay nodded. "He spent most of first year looking out for me. He's sorta quiet, and—and maybe a little edgy, but—he's a really great friend."

Lloyd said nothing for a moment, his eyes on the ground. After a moment he sighed.

"If you're sure he won't hurt you," he said, "You have to go after him."

"Huh?" Jay squinted.

"You need to fix this." Lloyd gave him a nudge towards the gate. "Tell him you won't hang out with us anymore."

"What?!" sputtered Jay. "No! The whole point was for all of us—"

"I don't know if that's going to happen, Jay," said Lloyd quietly. "But look. That's okay. I have Kai and Nya. Does Cole have any friends besides you?"

"Well . . . " Jay faltered.

"And before we came along, did you have any friends besides him?" Lloyd shook his head. "He needs you. You two need each other. Don't let us ruin that for you. Don't let . . . _me_ ruin that for you."

"But . . . " Jay looked at him with dismay. This was so unfair. Lloyd shouldn't have to make sacrifices like this, allowing people to just toss him aside if it interfered with their other friendships.

"I'm glad we could hang out while it lasted," said Lloyd, smiling sadly. "Now _go_. Before it's too late."

Jay hesitated a second more. At last he sighed.

"Later, then. I guess."

He turned and walked away, breaking into a jog as he passed the gate. Kai and Nya, still lurking nearby, watched him go. Then they looked to Lloyd, who was trudging out of the vacant lot with a straight face but treacherously slumping shoulders.

"You're too good for this world, bro," said Kai glumly. He patted Lloyd on the shoulder. "Come on. Who needs those guys, let's get double slushies today. My treat."

* * *

Jay wasn't exactly _sure_ where he'd find Cole, but something drew him towards the city's docks. Cole had always seemed to linger there on his way to work, so maybe they were special to him.

To his own surprise, Jay was right. He soon saw a familiar ponytailed form, slouched on a stack of pallets overlooking the sea. A blastedly tall stack of pallets, too. Jay sighed.

"Cole."

No reply.

Tucking in his tongue, Jay carefully clambered up the side of the pallet stack. He hooked his arms over the top and paused there, studying the uncommunicative curve of Cole's back.

"Cole, look," he said, sighing again. "I didn't tell them about your parents, okay?"

Cole shifted a little—so he was listening, at least. Wisps of his ponytail fluttered back in the ocean breeze.

"I promise your parents are safe," said Jay. "And I didn't tell them anything about you, really. They just knew you were my friend. They knew that already, even before I met them."

A pause.

"'Were,' huh?" said Cole bitterly.

Jay mentally smacked himself. A-plus choice of tenses there. Truly.

"I don't mean it like that," he groaned, clambering the rest of the way up and sitting down next to Cole. The other teen turned his head away, refusing to look at him.

"Come onnnn," said Jay, sighing. "I can explain."

"Explain what," said Cole flatly. "I leave for one week and you decide to make friends with the son of all evil. So, is that a step up for you?"

Jay laughed before he could catch himself. Cole, of all people, insecure and jealous and doing a terrible job of hiding it.

"Oh, fine." Cole sounded so hurt that Jay sobered immediately. Gah, he was making it worse.

"No, it's not like that! Geez, I'm sorry!" He grabbed at Cole's arm as he tried to leave. "No, _wait_. Just turn around and look at me. Just for one second."

Cole growled, but at last turned to give Jay a grudging look. Jay bit his lip and pulled down the scarf.

"What the f—" Cole grabbed his shoulders, eyes wide. "What did they do to you?!"

"They didn't! They didn't!" Jay swatted at Cole's arms indignantly, wanting him to back off so Jay could cover his neck again. "They _saved_ me from this getting any worse. Actually Lloyd did."

Cole glared at him in silent disbelief. Jay let out a long sigh, drawing his scarf a little tighter. He wasn't gonna enjoy reliving this experience, but he had to tell this story.

The whole thing tumbled out in a rush—the scarf, Clyde, the drugs, the switchblade, Nurse Haskall. Jay's voice got a little shaky by the middle of it, and he soon realized Cole had moved to grip his forearms, grounding him, holding him together. He got to the part about the stitches, scrubbed a sleeve over his eyes—Cole looked away obligingly—and went on talking. How Lloyd and the others had offered to protect him from Clyde, how he'd spent the week with them and seen how nice they all were, how Lloyd got so much hate and never fought back. By the time he was done his throat was sore from talking so much.

Cole said nothing for a long time.

"Jay, I don't . . . I don't know," he said at last. "This has to be some kind of trap."

"But why?" Jay didn't like the thought of being tricked like that, so he reflexively denied it. "What kind of trap would that even be?"

"I don't know, but . . . " Cole shook his head, grimacing. Jay folded his arms and tossed the idea around in his mind for a while. Lloyd's behavior had never seemed suspicious . . . And as paranoid as he was, he was _good_ at noticing suspicious behavior. Normally he wouldn't want to take chances, the first hint of possible danger and he'd be out, but . . . somehow, this time . . .

Cole was eyeing him with continued unease.

"Hey. They didn't brainwash you or something, did they?"

"What?! No! Geez!'

"It's not a hostage situation?" Cole looked around furtively. "They're not, like, threatening to hurt you if you leave, or anything."

"No!" Jay slapped his forehead. "Cole. Literally just now Lloyd told me it was okay to ditch them if that's what it took to stick with _you_. That is _not_ a hostage situation."

"He said that?" Cole looked startled.

"Well, yeah." Jay smiled ruefully. "See, I'm not the only one who can give people space."

Cole's resolve seemed to flicker, but only for a moment. Then he looked suspicious again.

"Must be some kind of reverse psychology . . . "

"Cole!" Jay all but smacked him.

"It's just _weird,_ okay?!" Cole snapped back. "This can't be right. The whole school hates him, the whole city hates him. They wouldn't do that if something wasn't wrong!"

"The only thing that's wrong is his dad," said Jay. "And that's not his fault."

" _Yeah_ , about that." Cole growled. "Did you pay any attention in 8th-grade bio? Think about who Lloyd's father is! Look at _that!_ " He pointed at Garmadon's volcano lair, glowing in the distance. "Think about how many times Garmadon's attacked the city. Think about all the innocent people whose lives he's ruined. Have you seen him on TV? He's a psychopath! And half his genes are _in Lloyd!_ "

"You're not like your dad."

That stopped the discussion pretty fast. For a long moment Cole just stared in silence. Eventually his face fell and he looked away again.

"You sure about that?" he said quietly. "I did just knock you over."

"That's different." Jay's expression softened. "Come on, Cole. You're not like your dad. You try really hard to be different from him, right? Lloyd does too. He's okay, I know he is."

Cole sighed, grinding one palm into his face resignedly.

"Well. I don't have a good answer to that one."

"Do you want to come meet them?" said Jay hopefully. Cole winced and looked away.

"Collllle, come on. If I'm not scared, what've _you_ got to worry about?"

"I'm not scared," growled Cole. "Just . . . "

"Just _what?_ "

"Ugh. One . . . one friend's enough, okay?"

Jay blinked, then rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Is that all it is?"

"If you want to call it 'all,'" said Cole, a touch sulkily.

"You don't have to be _friends_ with them, fine," said Jay. "If you really don't want to. But at least come say hi?"

Cole gave a final long, tired sigh.

"All right. Just hi."

"Awesome!" Jay scrabbled down the side of the pallet stack, waving eagerly for Cole to follow him. "Come on, they might still be at the mini-mart!"

"Just hi," warned Cole, sliding off the stack and straightening his jacket. He looked like he regretted this already. "No commitment."

"Sure, sure," Jay flapped impatiently. "Come on."

"And I'm being _super_ careful about this, okay?" said Cole, trotting resignedly after Jay. "The first sign of evil and I'm pulling us both out of there."

"You won't need to, I swear."

"And don't tell them anything about my parents, okay?"

"'course not."

"Or about anything else!"

"Geeeeeeeeez, Cole!" Jay tossed an exasperated look over his shoulder. "I'm going to remind you about this a million times when you end up liking them even more than I do."

"We'll see," grumbled Cole.

* * *

 _Spoiled,_ Lloyd told himself harshly. It was strange how familiarity was a one-way street. Before Jay entered the picture, Lloyd had been perfectly happy knowing only Kai and Nya, perfectly grateful to have two loyal friends. But now that he'd gotten a taste of what it was like to have three, suddenly dropping back down to two felt like deprivation. Like missing a limb.

But heck. What was he supposed to do? Ask Jay to abandon his longtime friend and subject himself to a life of bullying and hate, just to make Lloyd happy? What a selfish thought. Ungrateful, too. Here were Kai and Nya going through so much to stay by his side, and instead of appreciating that, he was just gonna mope about Jay ditching them? Like the twins weren't good enough, or something?

He couldn't let his friends think that. As they sat in a booth at the mini-mart, chatting, he scrabbled desperately to make sure they didn't catch even the tiniest hint of disappointment.

Not that it worked. They were too good at reading him.

"I wanna rearrange that little punk's face," Nya announced to no one in particular, sucking morosely at her slushie. Kai winced, but nodded in glum understanding. Lloyd only hung his head, fiddling with the edge of a napkin.

"Guys, chill," he said. "He's been through enough already, you can't ask him to go through any more by sticking around."

"Yeah we can," said Nya grouchily.

" _Seriously_ , guys. It's okay."

"Maybe for you it is!" said Nya. "What about _us?_ He was our friend too."

Lloyd looked striken. Kai and Nya watched him internally performing the shift from "I'm feeling abandoned as if two friends aren't good enough, I'm a horrible person" to "I just caused my friends to get abandoned too and didn't even realize how _they_ must feel, I'm a _really_ horrible person."

"Oh my gosh," he said, after a moment. "I'm so sorry . . . "

"It's not your fault, for the love of Pete," said Nya.

"No, I—"

"You heard her. Not. Your. Fault." Kai emphasized each word by chucking a sugar packet across the table. Lloyd leaned away, giving Kai a " _seriously?_ " look, but eventually couldn't help laughing, reaching across the table to swipe the remainder of Kai's slushie. Kai swiped it back, indignant.

"That's more like it," said Nya. "Now, just push that little creep right out of your head. The sooner we all forget he existed, the happier we'll be."

Lloyd and Kai exchanged a glum look. When Nya got this salty, she was really hurting.

"Take it easy, Nya," said Kai gently. "I guess we can't blame Cole for not trusting us." He missed Lloyd's flinch. "And I mean, Jay's known him for ages. We can't blame him for wanting to stick with Cole either."

"Oh yes we can," retorted Nya. "Just watch me! If I never see that jumpy little weasel again, it'll be too soon."

Before Kai or Lloyd could reply, the little bell above the mini-mart's door jingled, and Jay came bustling through.

"Oh, me and my big mouth." Nya sank her head into her hands.

"Are you _coming?_ " Jay was looking back at someone still outside. After a moment he darted out the door again, then returned all but dragging Cole by the arm. He hustled the reluctant-looking teenager over to Lloyd and the twins' table. They watched, unsure what to make of all this.

"Guys," said Jay breathlessly, beaming. "This is Cole. Cole, that's Lloyd, Kai, Nya."

Nobody said anything for a while. Both parties sized each other up.

"You knock your friends over often?" said Nya sardonically.

" _Nya!_ " said Kai. Cole winced, looking away.

"I _said_ I started it," said Jay reproachfully. Without waiting for an invitation, he slid into the seat Kai and Nya were sharing, then nodded for Cole to take the opposite seat next to Lloyd. "Don't mind us, we won't be here long. We just wanted to say hi. Right Cole?"

Cole hesitated, still standing. His eyes lingered on Lloyd. The young son of Garmadon gave him an awkward smile.

"Hey," he said. "So, uh . . . rough start, huh?"

Cole shifted, still making no move to sit down.

"Jay says you helped him out back there," he said at last, not meeting Lloyd's eyes. "I thought I'd say thanks. Guess that sounds weird, since just now you had to—" He broke off, clenching his jaw.

"Hey, it's cool," said Lloyd soothingly. "Relax. We've heard good things about you too."

"Not sure that we believe them," muttered Nya. Kai jabbed her with his elbow.

"Soooo . . . " said Lloyd at last. "Do you . . . want to join us for a bit?"

Cole swayed, deliberating. He seemed on the verge of shaking his head and walking away. Eventually, though, the balance shifted in the other direction. Hesitantly he slid into the booth, while Lloyd slid over and gave him plenty of space. Cole snuck a glance at Jay, who was beaming at him across the table, then turned back to Lloyd and gave a guarded nod of acknowledgement.

"Nice to meet you," said Lloyd, smiling hopefully. His eyes strayed to the T-shirt peeking through Cole's jacket. "Oh hey, you're into AC/DC? Nya, that one's your favorite, right?"

Nya perked up, now more inclined to be forgiving. She began to ask about Cole's music tastes, while Kai began to advocate that Cole and Jay get their own slushies, particulaly the raspberry ones. Jay protested, knowing that the raspberry ice here was a flavor only Kai could stand. Cole hung back at first, sticking to monosyllables even when he did participate, but he looked less and less on-edge as the conversation continued. His stance gradually shifted from pre-fistfight to a quiet attentiveness, the tense lines smoothing out of his expression. He was coming around faster than even Jay had anticipated.

Lloyd sat pressed into the corner of the booth, occasionally throwing in a contribution. A few minutes in, he caught Jay's eye and got a nearly blinding smile. He grinned back giddily. This _had_ to be too good to be true. And yet, here it was.

* * *

 **A/N: You know, originally I'd just been planning for Jay to be nervous and get picked on a little while Cole was away, and then when Lloyd and the twins offered to protect him he was so smitten with Nya he forgot to say no. But then I thought for a bit, and I was like, "nahhhhhh, I'mma slit the kid's throat."**

 **. . . Being a writer screws with your humanity, seriously. X'D But I thought it'd be a good explanation for why he always wears that scarf!**

 ** **And I'm chapped because I wanted to include more about Cole's new parents in there! But oh well. This thing is already whoppingly long as it is. X'D****

 **Thanks for all your feedback, everyone! Next chapter is ZAAAAAAAANE! :D**


	8. Quick Epilogue

**Whoops! I know I said the next chapter would be about Zane, but there were just a few things that needed wrapping up after getting Cole introduced to Lloyd. I guess not much happens in this chapter, but it's kind of important for plot housekeeping reasons. And the Zane chapter is going live too, so no worries!**

* * *

It was late afternoon when the group of teenagers finally left the convenience store. Kai, Nya, and Lloyd headed off in two different directions, waving. Jay sank his hands into his pockets, eyeing Cole.

"So?" he said, as they stood on the sidewalk. "How was that?"

"They were nice," admitted Cole quietly.

Jay looked at him hopefully. He'd promised Cole there would be no commitment, but he'd also been hoping _so much_ that Cole would change his mind and want to be friends. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to choose a side.

Cole said nothing for a moment.

"You and Nya, huh?" he said at last.

"What?!" Jay grabbed his head. "What—how did you—I—we didn't—"

"It's kiiiiiind of glaringly obvious," said Cole flatly.

"Oh _no_." Jay was dragging his hands down his face now, peeking out at Cole between his fingers. "I'm that obvious? Really? Do you think she knows?"

"I get the feeling she doesn't." Cole turned and started to walk. Jay groaned despairingly and scampered to catch up.

"Are you sure?" he asked, drawing level with Cole. "I mean, I don't want her to know, not yet, I don't know if she'd—you know—like me back or anything . . . " He blushed and looked away for a moment, then turned anxious eyes to Cole again. "But we were there for less than two hours, and you already figured it out? How could she _not_ know?"

"Relax, Jay. You'd be surprised. People can be really oblivious about that kind of thing," said Cole. Jay quirked an eyebrow, a little dubious whether Cole was any kind of authority on that.

Meanwhile Cole kept shuffling along, hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on some point down the street.

"Hey, anyway. Congrats," he said at last. "Hope she does like you back."

"Arrrrgh . . . " Jay covered his eyes again. "I can't let her know. Not until I'm like . . . cooler, and stuff."

"Your call, man," said Cole, noncommitally. After a moment he sighed. "But I see how it is. The kids are all right, you like hanging out with them, now there's a girlfriend in the picture too . . . " He shut his eyes, sighing again. "So, yeah. I can't . . . I can't just ask you to walk away from all that. That'd kind of suck."

Jay blinked, realizing the matter was coming to a head.

"So go ahead, I guess," said Cole, shrugging. "Not like you needed my permission. But I'm not gonna fight you about it."

"You're not . . . telling me to pick a side, are you?" said Jay carefully. "You and me can still be friends too, right?"

"You wanna be?" Cole raised his eyebrows.

"Well _geez_ , yes," said Jay. "Come on. We're—" he hesitated to turn the situation mushy, but at last forged ahead "—we're best friends. The stuff we've been through, that doesn't just go away. You're always gonna be my best friend, even if I know Lloyd and Kai and Nya and like two hundred other people."

"Hm." Cole gave the sidewalk a small, wry smile as he walked.

"Which is why I wanted you to meet them," said Jay. "I mean, if you really-really-really don't want to be friends, that's okay. I'll just hang out with them and you at different times. But I was thinking if you got to know them too, we could all hang out together . . . " He elbowed Cole lightly, frustrated with his refusal to look up. "C'monnnnnn. It wouldn't be so bad to have more than one friend, would it? They'd give you space. Promise."

Cole hesitated, biting his lip. After a moment he sighed and finally looked up.

"Sure. I guess I can give it a try."

Jay sucked in an elated breath. It was happening! It had sure looked sketchy for a while there, but it was all coming together, just like he'd hoped.

"It's gonna be great!" he bubbled. "They're gonna like you a lot, promise! But, uh, not _too_ much, like I said they're gonna give you space if you need it, you've just gotta let them know, maybe, but—"

"One favor, though?" interrupted Cole. Jay paused.

"Yeah?"

"Can you maybe not tell them I'm adopted?" said Cole quietly.

Jay tilted his head, puzzled.

"I mean . . . I don't think they'd pick on you or anything, but—"

"It's not even that," said Cole. "It's just . . . I don't want people to think about that. _I_ don't want to think about that. All that stuff in the past, with my—with my dad . . . " He shook his head. "I want to forget that. I wanna live like Mr. and Mrs. Brookstone are my _real_ parents, and always were, and nobody needs to wonder what was—what was wrong with me. What kind of messed-up life I had, or anything. I just don't want anyone else to know."

Anyone _else_. Jay smiled.

"Sure," he said. "I can do that, no problem."

"Thanks," said Cole quietly.

"See? That's best-friend stuff," said Jay, nodding sagely. "Secrets, an' stuff."

Cole rolled his eyes, a smile flickering across his face, and the mood noticeably lightened.

"So heyyyy." Jay eventually elbowed him again, grinning. "Didja figure out what to call them yet?"

Cole laughed.

"Mom and Dad. When I'm ready, they said. Until then it's Mr. and Mrs. Brookstone." As if just reminded, he reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. He snorted when he saw the screen.

"Annnnnnnnnnnd there we go. They wanna know where I am." He began texting, his tongue tucked around his teeth.

"You would not _believe_ how many rules there are now," he said at last, hitting send and waving his phone around for emphasis. "I can't swear. I can't stay out late. I gotta answer texts. I gotta dress okay. And—I _quote_ —'You're too old for an official bedtime, but we will nag you if we're concerned about your health.' Pf. I'm pretty sure they've been reading all the latest science about raising _troubled youth_." He put a hand to his chest theatrically. Jay laughed, but it caught in his throat a little. Knowing Cole's usual attitude towards rules, this sounded like trouble brewing. _Already_.

"Sounds like a lot," he said cautiously. "You think they'll get mad if you don't listen?"

"Hm?" Cole looked up from the return message, seeming surprised. "What, naw, I'm gonna listen. I mean, I'll probably get _super_ tired of it, _super_ fast, but for now it's . . . " He ducked his head, coughing. "Eh, it's okay. Kinda okay."

Jay felt himself starting to grin. Shrugging at underage club entry and tobacco laws for years, but give half a damn about him and he'd happily consent to _bedtimes_. His best friend was an absolute sucker for love.

Cole knew where his bread was buttered, and abruptly swerved off down a side street before Jay could start teasing him.

"Byeeeeee," Jay singsonged after him, bouncing. "Enjoy having all those clear boundaries, and stuff!"

"Oh, shut up!" Cole threw up his hands and tried to ignore Jay's poorly-muffled snickering. After a moment he abruptly stopped and whirled around. " _Hey._ Wait a minute. What are you standing there for, come over and meet them!"

"Can I?!" Jay squeaked.

"Sure, yeah, they said to bring you over! Come on!" Cole waved eagerly.

"You told them about me?" Jay darted to catch up, already fumbling for his own phone to let his mom know he'd be home late.

"Well, _duh_. They wanted to know about everything before I met them, so, you know. Obviously you."

Jay paused his texting to look up, suddenly anxious.

"Wait . . . Do you think they'll . . . be . . . you know . . . " he ducked his head and mumbled, "Okay with me?"

"Pf, they're gonna _love_ you. Especially since—" Cole broke off with an odd laugh.

"What?" said Jay uneasily.

"Well, I'm not sure." Cole chuckled again, eyeing Jay. "They wanted to hear about you. I told them you were my only friend and stuff . . . And that I met you while I was working at the club . . . And that you were great because you didn't mind my dad . . . "

"Well, okay." Jay tilted his head. "So?"

"So, I only realized like eight hours later, I never told them what you're _like_. And going by what I told them, I . . . miiiight have made it sound like you're a worse delinquent than I am."

". . . COLE."

"They might have a little trouble believing it's you. They're probably expecting you to have, like, a mohawk or something. Chains, ton of piercings, ton of tattoos . . . Probably facial tattoos . . . With barbed wire and cuss words. . . Inappropriate T-shirt . . . Drugs and knives in your pockets . . . "

" _Coooooooole!_ " Jay went around in a circle, holding his head. "I can't face them now!"

"Sure you can. Just back me up, try to look really mean."

" _I didn't sign up for this!_ "

"Seriously, man," Cole laughed. " _Relax_. They're just gonna be over the moon that I've been spending all this time hanging around with a good influence."


	9. Zane: What We Need is a Blue Fairy

**Finally, the Zane chapter!** **In case you missed it, I've also posted a quick epilogue to the Cole storyline in the previous chapter.**

* * *

There was hating Mondays, and then there was _hating Mondays_.

Some people were lucky, reflected Lloyd despairingly. Some people only hated Mondays because they had to be stuck at work or school all day. What he'd _give_ to be stuck peacefully at school all day.

Instead of breathing in drywall dust because a tenth of the school had collapsed.

It was a good candidate for Worst Monday Ever. Nobody had ever seen Garmadon attack in a mech before—he'd been bringing increasing numbers of minions lately, but the mech was a first. Although the creaking wooden shark robot had only staggered three blocks before keeling over and exploding, it had still sent the city into a panic several tiers above the the standard Garmadon panic protocol.

Worse, the one missile successfully fired by the mech had demolished part of the school. It was the gym and some storage rooms, empty at the time, thank the FSM, but it still unleashed chaos on the student body.

Lloyd pressed back against the lockers, his stomach churning as he watched students thronging the halls. The scene retained elements of a fire drill, but with legitimate terror laced into it. His insides gave an extra lurch when he saw one student rushing by, clutching a bloody arm, her friends plowing ahead of her to clear a path to the outside. He hated this. He _hated_ this. He hated watching the destruction his father wrought, unable to stop him, unable to do anything. Staring at the trail of blood droplets on the floor, knowing that the person responsible shared half of his DNA. And here he was. Doing nothing. Times like this, he understood perfectly why everyone hated him.

Barring four. His eyes swept the passing students, hoping for reassurance that his friends were okay. They might be outside already . . .

His search was abruptly halted. Just down the hall, motionless amongst the chaos, he saw Clyde and a few other teenagers. They were staring at Lloyd with fixed, steely gazes.

Well, that was nothing new. Lloyd knew the drill.

Without waiting to see if the others were charging—he knew they were—he pushed off from the lockers and ran.

"Get back here, Garmadork!" bellowed a voice behind him. "We know it's your fault!"

Lloyd didn't look back. He slipped between students, running againt the flow to make it harder for his pursuers. Thinking fast, he slid around a corner and headed towards the collapsed part of the school. If he could just make it out of sight fast enough, nobody would guess he'd headed _into_ the most dangerous area.

The hallway was empty, and the dust was thick. Lloyd kept going, barging through a half-detached door and into the collapsed section.

It was pretty apocalyptic. Walls missing here, ceiling missing there. Beams of sunlight crisply outlined against a haze of dust. In places, wide-open sky incongruously shining above water fountains and lame inspirational posters. Wreckage everywhere, beams leaning on other beams, severed wires gushing sparks.

Lloyd skidded to a halt near a broken pipe, realizing that wet feet would leave footprints. He gave himself only a second to glance around, scrabbling for a hiding place.

There—some broken sheets of drywall leaning against each other, forming a kind of tent. Probably all kinds of hazards in there, but still better than what was behind him. He dove for it.

There was a small dark space underneath the rubble. Lloyd twisted himself into the space and pulled his shirt over his mouth, trying to avoid panting in ounces of finely-ground construction materials.

Nobody seemed to be following. Lloyd's breathing gradually slowed. He let his forehead drop to his knees as he listened to the faraway police sirens and babble of concerned families, arriving to see if their children were all right. His mom might be out there right now. Not his dad, though. His dad was the _reason_ everyone was out there right now.

He hated this.

For a while Lloyd considered just staying here till nightfall. Maybe sneak out around midnight . . . maybe not come back ever . . . But he couldn't worry his mom like that. Groaning, he willed himself to slowly start moving, preparing to lever himself out of this tiny space.

His hand landed on something cold, and with a very strange shape. Lloyd didn't know what it reminded him of, but for some reason something seized in his gut. Inexplicably tense, he twisted his head around, trying to see what he'd touched.

It was dark under here. A single beam of sunlight filtered in through the rubble, coming to rest on a wide, empty, lifeless eye.

* * *

Kai, Nya, Jay, and Cole were milling outside with the other students, most of them texting their parents to let them know they were okay. Nya was peering with consternation at the columns of dust and smoke rising off the collapsed portion of the school.

"That was _crazy_ ," she said. "Where did he get that robot from?"

"And the missile!" said Kai.

"And the laser eyes," said Jay.

" . . . Wait, what? It didn't have laser eyes."

"Say, shouldn't Lloyd be here by now?" said Nya, looking around.

"It definitely did have laser eyes. I saw it out the window."

"Hello, does anyone know where Lloyd is?"

"Those were just lightbulbs, they definitely weren't shooting lasers."

"Yeah, lightbulbs. Lasers come from lightbulbs!"

"GUYS," interrupted Cole. Jay and Kai paused their discussion to look at him. Cole raised his eyebrows.

"Lloyd?"

"Oh." Kai's eyes widened, and he looked around anxiously. "He was in my class, we weren't even close to the damage. I hope nobody—"

"There!" said Jay, just as Lloyd suddenly bolted from a side door and shot towards them, all but bowling over Cole.

"Who's after you this time?!" said Cole, steadying him. "Relax, if they come out here we'll—" He paused, catching a glimpse of Lloyd's wild expression. "Lloyd?"

"There's a body." Lloyd was heaving for air. "Someone died in there."

* * *

The five teenagers clustered at a safe distance, watching the police preparing to dig through the rubble. They'd been uncertain about getting the police involved. Nya had argued (not unreasonably) that it could get Lloyd into hot water. The dad trashed the school, the son just _happened_ to wander into the wreckage and find a body—conditions a little too easily misconstrued. But they had to do _something_ , and Cole pointed out (also not unreasonably) that this wasn't the Epic Teen Adventure Show. If they went digging around a potential crime scene, they probably wouldn't find dramatic overlooked evidence, solve the case, and be hailed as heroes. They'd land in juvie.

So they told the police. As Nya predicted, Lloyd got a lot of suspicious looks, but he was visibly rattled enough that nobody questioned him too hard. They probably also realized that he wouldn't go and report it if he was somehow responsible.

So now here the teens were, watching the drama instead of picking up their homework and going home early like everyone else. Sobriety hung over the scene. People usually didn't die in Garmadon's attacks. The citizens were well-trained in staying safe, there had been maybe three deaths in his entire history of attacking Ninjago. But now . . . to have someone at their own school killed . . .

"It must not have been a student," said Nya, arms folded morosely. "They wouldn't have started sending people home if everyone wasn't accounted for."

"Think it was one of the coaches?" said Cole. "It was the gym . . . "

Lloyd hadn't said anything since leading the police to the right pile of rubble. He stood watching with blank eyes. Kai kept an arm around him.

"Yeah, there's definitely someone," said one of the officers grimly. She and another officer began pulling aside slabs of drywall. A third officer crouched to peer into the space as the work progressed. He grunted in surprise.

"There's rubble on every side there . . . How did this stuff fall like that? Was the guy _inside_ the wall?"

The teenagers exchanged wide-eyed looks as new possibilities unfolded.

"You think it was a murder cover-up?" whispered Nya.

"Maybe it's some kind of mummy!" Jay receded into his scarf. "Entombed there back when the school was built!"

"Now there's a level 11 unleashed curse," said Cole.

"Guys. Could you tone it down?" said Kai. He glanced to Lloyd and added a second arm.

"Oh damn," said one of the officers, grimacing as the last piece of drywall fell away. "That's a kid."

The teenagers all tensed, subconsciously edging closer, straining to see. An officer glanced their way.

"Do any of you feel up to having a look? Is this anyone you know?"

Now everyone backed right up again. Hesitant glances were exchanged.

"Eh." Jay abruptly trotted forward, flicking one scarf tail over his shoulder. The others stared after him, then looked to Cole. He only shrugged. Jay's random episodes of intensity were something he'd given up understanding.

"Woah." Jay squinted. "I've definitely never seen that guy before."

Nya, not wanting to be any worse, joined Jay. Her eyes widened.

"Woah. _Definitely_ never seen him." She peered closer. "He doesn't look hurt at all. What killed 'im?"

One of the police officers shooed her and Jay aside a little bit, reaching out to feel for a pulse. His eyebrows shot up.

"What the—" Without warning he rapped his knuckles against the body's wrist. For a second everyone thought he was crazy, but then they heard the clank of metal. The officer started tapping all up the arm, then the other arm, then knocked on the head.

"All metal!" he said. "Get out. It's a robot!"

"What the hell?" said one of the other officers, while the other teens came flooding over to see. One of the officers glanced at them suspiciously.

"Is this some kind of prank?" he said. "Because listen, kids, we don't have that kind of time—"

"No sir!" said Kai hastily. "We don't know anything about this! Promise!"

One of the other officers had hoisted the robot up, and was now peering dubiously into the expressionless face.

"Robot teenager in the wall of the school . . . " he muttered. "Damn. Is there some kind of reporting protocol for this?"

"Pretty sure that's just a note for the ledger," said his partner. "And a really interesting story to tell at headquarters." She glanced at her radio, which had been periodically emitting static and status reports all this time. "Come on, boys, they're swamped out there. If it's not a body, we've got bigger fish to fry. We can double-check protocol with the chief later."

"Can we stay and have a look?" asked Nya hopefully, pointing to the robot. The police officers exchanged glances, then shrugged. They might have ordered other kids to get out of this dangerous area, but this was Lloyd Garmadon and his friends, who cared.

"Just don't remove the thing, okay?" said the senior officer. "Leave it here. No getting ideas for fancy Halloween decorations, okay?"

Laughing, the officers headed out. Nya made a face as she joined her friends, crouching around the robot in a fascinated half-circle.

"Am I the only one who gets weirded out when people go 'oh, whatever, it's just a _thing_ ' the minute they hear it's a robot?"

"Maybe a little," said Jay. The others made half-committed noises.

"But still, I mean . . . it's better than a body," said Kai, giving Lloyd a sympathetic smile. He nodded weakly, too relieved to speak.

They all leaned this way and that for a while, elbowing each other as they tried to examine the robot from every angle. Now that they were less worked-up, it (he?) was really not that convincing. The face was frozen into a stiff, unnatural mask, the eyes were very clearly glass, and the joints were not quite right. A ragged, dusty T-shirt hung loosely off his torso, and his sweatpants seemed to be taped to his waist.

"This looks really high-tech," said Cole. "Why was it hidden inside a wall?"

"Maybe it's an attack robot," said Jay uneasily. "Maybe they hid him away so he wouldn't destroy humanity."

"Hm." Nya was studying the robot's face, ignoring the conversation. "You think there's some way we could turn him on?" She looked around at the others' horrified expressions. "What?"

"He might have laser eyes!" sputtered Jay.

"Or be, like, the Terminator or something," agreed Cole.

"Oh, puh-leeze. Look at him, does he look like a destroyer? He's got the dorkiest haircut I've ever seen," scoffed Nya. Now challenged, she reached for the robot's shirt and tugged up the front. "Ha, look at that! He's got a panel right here! Hey. It can't hurt to just open it up and _look_ , can it?"

The others crowded in, curious.

"A panel? Where?" said Lloyd. "I don't see it."

"I think you can't see the edges," said Jay. "But see, there's a latch here!"

He poked a small sliding button at the base of the ribcage. It slid. No panels opened; instead the robot gave a violent jerk and buzzed to life.

"GAH!" Jay tumbled back into Kai and Lloyd, who weren't much calmer themselves. "No no no, turn it off, turn it off!"

Nya reached for the power switch, but the robot's shirt had fallen back into place and he was moving too much for her to dare touch him. Everyone shrank back, grabbing whoever was handy and watching the robot with rising terror.

"Here come the laser eyes!" wailed Jay, shielding his head with his arms.

The robot's systems gave a final whirring, groaning heave. His head jolted upright, and his eyes snapped alight with a bright-blue glow. His eyelids made a mechanical shuttering noise as he blinked once, twice. Swiveling his head slightly, he took in the crowd of petrifed teenagers. Shutter-blink. Shutter-blink. After a moment he broke into a bright smile.

"Hello, friends!"

A moment of silence.

" . . . Ohhhhhh boy," said Kai faintly.

"You don't look familiar," continued the robot, oblivious to the others' defensive postures. "Have I been asleep for long? Are you next year's class?"

Slowly the teens unglommed from each other, venturing closer again.

"I don't know about 'next class,'" said Kai. "How long have you been inside that wall?"

The robot's expression darkened for a moment. Everyone shrank back a bit.

"2002 . . . " said the robot distantly. Then he seemed to recover his good cheer. "I was last functional in 2002!"

"Dude. It's 2016 now," said Cole flatly.

"GASP," said the robot. The others registered a mild double-take at the expression.

"I must have so much overdue coursework!" continued the robot, holding his head.

" _Coursework?_ " Nya squinted. "You _go_ here?"

"Of course!" said the robot. "Oh! Where are my manners. I am Zane! I am a teenager attending this high school. What are your names?"

"Teenager?" Nya squinted harder.

"Yes," said Zane. An oddly resolute expression crossed his face. "I am . . . a normal teenager."

"So like . . . " Nya ignored Jay tugging despairingly at her arm. "You don't know that you're a robot?"

The others glared at her, making hushing motions. You didn't try to argue with AIs about their humanity! That was classic trigger-an-existential-rampage stuff right there!

"Of course I do. I am a paragon of advanced robotic technology," said Zane. "Which enables me to be an _exquisitely normal_ teenager."

"That's not how it—" began Nya, then Kai jammed a hand over her mouth.

If Zane noticed this debacle, he didn't give it much thought. He was looking around at the wreckage now, affectatiously rubbing his chin.

"I was a freshman . . . but that was fourteen years ago . . . " He murmured. "So that would mean . . . no, not college . . . I would be . . . " There was an unhealthy sparking noise, and one of his eyes twitched violently. Something about that idea hadn't sat right.

Recovering, Zane shook his head.

"No, there is no other choice. I will have to start all over again. I need to register myself as a freshman immediately!"

"You need to _what_ now?" said Kai.

"I apologize, but I must hurry!" said Zane, already turning away. He waved. "I will see you again soon, friends! Thank you for reactivating me!"

Then he skidded away. _Literally_ skidded. He didn't walk. He just sort of reared back onto his heels and zoomed away on little caster wheels. One of them squeaked obnoxiously.

The living set stared after him, far from comprehending anything they'd just seen.

" _What_ ," said Cole at last, "have we _done._ "

* * *

"Excuse me," said Zane, folding his hands politely on the edge of Principal Reynolds' desk. "Excuse me?"

Principal Reynolds waved at him absently, focusing on the phone plastered to his ear. A large portion of his school had just collapsed; he was being smothered with complications.

"No, no, there weren't any casualties . . . Well yes, two injuries. Minor though, they'll pull through . . . No, I haven't spoken with the parents yet. We're sending everyone home."

"I only need a second of your time, sir," said Zane meekly. "It's very urgent."

"Yes, yes, I realize this is going to be a huge legal disaster." The principal got up and began to pace behind his desk. "Oh FSM, no, I don't even know the protocol for that. What?"

"I understand you're busy," persisted Zane. "But I see from your calendar that it's April. I am almost an entire school year behind; I need to register as a freshman _immediately_."

"Hang on kid, hang on, just a minute," said Principal Reynolds, barely looking up as he dug through a filing cabinet and juggled his phone.

Zane gave a simulated sigh, sinking down a little in his chair. He began to idly push some paperclips around on the desk and sneak glances around the room. After a moment his gaze landed on the reams of blank forms stacked against one wall. One of them had the bold heading "REGISTRATION."

Perking up, he slipped across the room and looked at the form. It was indeed the necessary paperwork to register at Ninjago City High.

Pleased at this chance to be less of a bother, Zane sat down and began to quietly fill out the form. To his dismay, he soon found that almost everything on it was a mystery. Address? Allergies? Phone number? He didn't know if he had any of those things or not.

He snuck a glance up at Principal Reynolds, but decided not to ask. The man only looked more frazzled by the minute. After some hesitation, Zane shrugged and began printing "UNKNOWN" in blank after blank.

With great relief, he finally found an answer he knew: his name. Proudly he printed "ZANE." Then he looked at the space for last name. He had one of those . . . right? Right on the tip of his tongue . . .

His eyes widened, and he quickly wrote down "JULIEN." He stared down at the word for a while. Somehow he knew that was right, but . . . where had it come from? You got last names from your family, right?

His eyes drifted to the "Guardians" section, and he grimaced. He remembered the boy who had built him. That must be where he got the last name Julien. But weren't guardians supposed to be older than you? . . .

At last, conflicted, he just put down JULIEN for Guardian 1, then went back to the steady stream of UNKNOWNs for Guardian 2. He would really have to do something about all this.

Finally he finished the form. He avoided re-reading it—somehow the thought of seeing UNKNOWN after UNKNOWN after UNKNOWN made him sad. Clearing his throat, he looked up to Principal Reynolds.

"Excuse me?" he said again. "I know you're busy . . . "

"No kidding, kid," said Principal Reynolds, still on the phone and now typing something furiously.

"I hate to be a bother, but I just need to turn in this form . . . " Zane held out the registration sheet. He continued to hold it for quite a while, but Principal Reynolds didn't respond. Eventually Zane looked around helplessly, trying to figure out an alternative.

"Should I just put this away over here?" he asked, pointing at the open filing cabinet. "Excuse me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, sure," said the principal, still not looking up. Zane smiled with relief and tucked his form away in a folder titled "Registration Forms 2015-2016."

"Thank you, Principal Reynolds!" he said brightly. "Don't worry, I'll talk to the teachers myself about making up for lost time. I'm sure I'll be able to catch up!"

That said, he popped up on his heels and scooted out the door. The squeaking of his caster wheel pulled Principal Reynolds away from his screen for a second.

"What the . . . ?"

Zane was already gone.

* * *

 _Fourteen years ago:_

Young Casper Julien was developing damp stains from wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans so much. Today was the big day: the school science fair. He had been working so hard over the past few months, designing and building his project. He was going to build the world's first ever fully functioning, convincingly human robot. And him just a high school freshman!

He had stayed up all night to complete construction. Now would be the first time he powered up the fully-assembled robot. His fingers shook as he reached for the On switch. The science fair started in two hours. What if his creation didn't work? It was too late to troubleshoot . . .

The robot shuddered. Hard drives chattered softly, gears began to click. After a long moment, the metallic form began to stir. Casper held his breath, wringing his hands as he waited, waited for those blue eyes to flicker on.

They finally did. The robot shifted, shook his head, sat up. Slowly opened his eyes. Casper let out his breath all at once, awed to see his hard work coming to life. Realizing for the first time that his glasses were slipping off his nose, he pushed them into place.

"Hello Zane," he whispered.

The robot gazed at him sleepily. Slowly he lifted his hands, looked at them, then looked down at his metallic body. Blankly he stared at the table he'd been lying on and the cluttered garage workshop they were in. He lifted his eyes in confusion to Casper.

"You're Zane," said the teenager. "That's your name."

He helped the robot to his feet, supporting him on wobbly legs, and turned him towards a full-length mirror he'd brought from the house. The robot stared at his reflection, seemingly caught between fear and amazement.

"That's you," said Casper. "You're a robot. But you're the best robot in the world. You're . . . you're practically a real, normal teenager!"

Zane was gazing into the mirror, trying to stroke his reflection's face. He touched his own face, comparing. Casper watched, his heart swelling with dizzying pride. The robot _worked_. He worked perfectly. He was sure to win first place in the science fair. They'd be in the town newspaper. Maybe they would even get famous. Casper would have a friend, for once. Maybe even a whole _lot_ of friends. Why not, when he'd invented something this amazing? And he'd finally win the attention of Matilda Jones, the adorable girl from history class who refused to look his way . . .

"Come on!" He grabbed Zane's elbow, pulling him eagerly towards the garage door. "We've got a science fair to win, buddy!"

* * *

"Is this a science fair?" asked Zane, swiveling his head alarmingly far around.

"Yep!" Casper was fussing over his tabletop poster. The high school's gym was brand-new, still smelling of fresh rubber and construction materials, and it was buzzing with students setting up their projects. Zane was giddily taking it all in.

"What does it mean?"

"Huh?" Casper looked up, laughing a little. "It doesn't mean anything, I guess. It's just a thing where us teens do science projects. If you do a really good one, you get a prize."

"Are we going to get a prize?" said Zane.

"Haha, you kiddin'? We're gonna clean _up!_ You're amazing!"

"Me?" Zane blinked. "I am not sure if I am skilled at cleaning."

"Naw, naw, that's just an expression." Casper looked up, furrowing his forehead. "Hey, don't say stuff like that in front of the judges, though."

"Judges? . . . "

"Yeah. If you don't know expressions, they'll think you aren't real enough."

Zane looked confused.

"Woah, look, you don't know how this works?" Casper leaned over the table. " _You're_ my science project, buddy. I built you to be just like a real teenager. Heck, no, I built you to _be_ a real teenager. So you've gotta let the judges know it!"

"You mean . . . this is all up to _me?_ " The robot looked down self-consciously.

"Psh, what are you worried about?" Casper reached over to clap Zane on the shoulder, smiling. "I promise, you're gonna be awesome. Just do your thing, and we're gonna win, okay? Put your heart in it!"

"I won't let you down," said Zane earnestly. "I promise."

* * *

As far as Casper could tell, things were going great. He stood proudly next to Zane, showing him off to all the wandering students and parents, explaining what a cool robot he was. Zane eagerly offered handshakes to everyone who so much as glanced his way.

Presently the judges came around. Zane gave handshakes all around, while Casper beamed nervously.

"So, this is your project?" said one of the judges.

"Y-yeah." Casper's voice cracked. "Hey Zane, why doncha introduce yourself?"

"I am Zane," said the robot brightly. "I am a normal teenager attending this high school! I like normal teen things, like edgy garage bands and experimenting with alcohol."

" _Zane!_ " hissed Casper, slamming an elbow into the robot's ribs. He gave the judges an awkward smile. "He's kidding. He's a very principled guy! Straight-A student and everything."

"Certainly. Someday I will get into a good college and prepare for my dream career," said Zane.

"Hmmm. And that would be?" said one of the judges. Zane hesitated, caught off-guard.

"Uh . . . manufacturing?"

"Hm. Manufacturing what?"

"Uhhhh . . . " Zane cast about desperately. His eyes fell on a nearby science project about stuffing household objects with firecrackers. "Er, explosives."

"Explosives?!"

"Industrial-grade," said Zane earnestly, while Casper sank his face into one hand. The judges hummed, exchanged glances, wrote some things on their clipboards, gave the pair a nod, and headed onwards.

"And I will definitely get a wife and kids, someday! But for now I plan to focus on my grades. Like any normal teenager!" Zane called after them. He settled back and looked to Casper, who was slowly pulling himself together. "Did I do all right?"

"Uhhh . . . " Casper sighed. "Well, you _tried_. I guess."

Zane looked concerned.

"Was I not convincing?"

"You were . . . ah . . . " Casper sighed again. "Well hey, look, you weren't bad. You told them about college, and grades, and starting a family, and . . . stuff. You ticked most of the boxes."

He was trying to convince himself more than anything else, but Zane seemed satisfied. For the rest of the science fair he kept glancing over to the table where the shiny first-prize trophy was being displayed, happily convinced that it would soon be theirs.

They lost. To a baking-soda volcano, no less. Admittedly a pretty fancy baking-soda volcano, but come _on._

"We lost?" Zane's expression was blank. "I . . . I failed?"

Casper didn't answer. All his eager dreams were crumbling around him; all his long nights of work transforming into a bitter joke. Forget first prize. They'd been passed over for second prize. Third. Fourth. Not even an Honorable Mention. His beloved creation had been deemed _worthless_.

"I am so sorry," said Zane, hanging his head. "I assure you, I tried my best. I—I don't understand what went wrong."

Casper still said nothing. Zane looked around helplessly, wondering where he had fallen short. A few students wandered by, most of them heading over to see the prize-winning entries. The winners were being called up to the front of the gym to receive their prizes.

A small group of girls came by. Matilda was among them, laughing at something her friend had just said. Casper started at her voice, looking up eagerly.

"Matilda?" he said. "Uh—w-wait!"

She paused and gave him a puzzled look, while her friends swirled into a curious little knot a few steps further on.

"Uh, Casper . . . right?" she said dubiously.

"I—uh—yeah." Casper stammered. Zane gave him a funny look, wondering why he'd suddenly become so incoherent. Then he decided this might be his chance to redeem himself. He stuck out his hand to Matilda enthusiastically, beaming.

"Hello! I am Zane, a normal teenager attending this high school!"

Matilda shrank back the tiniest bit, not taking Zane's hand. She eyed Casper questioningly.

"Is he a robot?"

"Well yeah, but—a really really good one," said Casper.

"And also a normal teenager!" said Zane. He still had his hand out, a determined smile on his face. Matilda blinked at him a while longer.

"So . . . what do you think?" said Casper. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"I, uh . . . I guess . . . " said Matilda. She looked pained. Seeing Casper's hopeful expression, she drifted closer and lowered her voice.

"I mean, I guess it's cool, but . . . I mean, if you want my honest opinion, he's kinda creepy."

She gave him an awkward smile and hurried to join her friends. Casper stared after her, well and truly shattered.

"Did I do all right?" said Zane, oblivious. "I did offer to shake hands, but she did not seem to want to. I am . . . not sure where I keep going wrong . . . "

Silently Casper folded up his presentation board, tucked it under his arm, and walked away. Zane looked around helplessly again, then followed after him.

"I was normal, wasn't I? I did my best. Did it not show?"

Casper just kept walking, trying to shut out Zane's voice. He was aware of passing students staring at him—staring at _Zane,_ tagging behind him and chattering. It felt like the entire school must be singling him out and judging him as a failure. Like everyone knew about his dreams of being a famous inventor, and now they were all looking at him and thinking "did that loser _seriously_ think he had a chance?"

He had been nuts to think he had a chance.

Some of the hallways around the new gym were still under construction, technically off-limits to students. Casper was beyond caring. He really wanted to be alone right now. Ducking under the caution tape, he tossed aside his poster and plunged into the sawdust-scented construction area.

Zane still followed.

"Perhaps I just need practice," he continued, his tone a little desperate. "Will there be another science fair? Maybe next time I can do better."

He wasn't about to give up. Casper let out a slow breath, turning around to face the robot. A few hours ago he had looked at Zane with such pride, but now all he felt was the overwhelming crush of failure. He looked at the blank eyes, the slightly vacant expression. The poorly-jointed limbs, the sloppy clothing. The stiff, animatronic motions. The artificial voice.

 _Stupid_. He had been so _stupid_ to think he ever had a chance.

Zane was studying him plaintively.

"I am normal," he said. "I promise I am. How can I prove it?"

Casper sighed, rubbing his forehead. He came over to Zane, who relaxed a little seeing that Casper was at least acknowledging him.

"There always is next year, correct?" he said. "The next time around I—"

His eyes went dark. Casper stepped back and let him clatter to the floor.

There were still some walls where the studs weren't fully drywalled, and plenty of loose insulation lying around. A few minutes later Casper returned to class alone. Maybe with time, everyone would forget how he'd failed.

* * *

 **A/N: Listen guys, I don't care if Zane was pure comic relief in the movie, I'm just here to make everyone cry, 'kay? :P**

 **There's gonna be more fun times with Zane in the next chapter! Not sure when that's coming out, but I do have the plot all worked out, so hopefully this is gonna happen. ^_^**

 **Till next time!**


	10. Zane: Weird as in Different Than You

**Ech! Randomly got inspired and finished up this chapter. Annoyed that Zane's arc is gonna be three chapters instead of two, but what are you gonna do, I guess?**

 **Hope you're all having a good summer! Or winter, if you're in the southern hemisphere. :P**

* * *

School was cancelled for a few days while the worst of the wreckage was cleared away. Everyone was less thrilled than you'd think. Sure, an unexpected mini-vacation was nice, but it also meant that summer vacation, which had already seemed tantalizingly close, was suddenly pushed that much farther away.

"Well, at least I caught up on my History reading," said Kai glumly, as they gathered in the hall of the newly-reopened school.

"Speaking of catching up," said Jay. "Do you think . . . the robot . . . Zane . . . do you think he'll be back?"

"No way," scoffed Nya. "He probably got out into the real world and found way better things to do than _school_."

"Oh, there he is," said Kai, pointing down the hall.

The others turned. Sure enough, there was Zane, scooting along on his caster wheels.

"Oh, come on," said Nya. "There's no way he managed to get registered this late in the year!"

Zane came wheeling up to them, beaming as usual. He was lugging a ragged backpack that was bursting at the seams with . . . _something_.

"Hello, fellow teenagers! I am eager to start attending classes once again. Woo hoo!"

A couple of the others winced at the bizarre inflection he put on the phrase.

"Ah . . . you're coming to class?" said Nya. "It's _April_. Aren't you still catching up on, like, the entire year's coursework?"

"Oh, I had five whole days to work," said Zane cheerfully. "I am actually slightly ahead by now."

The living set stared at him.

"Speaking of which! I should start dropping off all my make-up homework." Zane patted the backpack, which creaked ominously.

"Wait, where did you _get_ all that make-up homework?" demanded Cole. "I thought you had to ask teachers for that."

"You do?" Zane turned back, looking puzzled. "I did not have any problems, I just downloaded it all off the internet. It was very easy!" He didn't seem to notice the others' even more stunned expressions. "Well, farewell then!"

With a cheery wave, he zoomed off.

"Did . . . he just hack into the teacher portal?" said Lloyd, after a moment.

"Did he just do an _entire year_ of homework in five days?" sputtered Kai.

"Boy." Jay's eyes were glinting dangerously. "We should get to know him better."

"Jayyyyy," sighed Lloyd. "We can't just mooch off him for homework help."

"I didn't say I was gonna!"

* * *

The day was full of surprises. Zane didn't have a formal schedule worked out, so he pretty much just popped into random classrooms. Nobody knew what to make of him.

"Good morning!" he chirped, plopping a giant stack of completed homework on Ms. Smitherton's desk. "My name is Zane, I am a normal teenager, and I am looking forward to completing the school year with you!"

The geometry teacher started, staring. Then she left to talk to the principal. She came back looking even more put-out—apparently she'd found that Zane _was_ in fact registered to attend here. And there weren't any specific rules saying that robots couldn't attend high school, so . . .

. . . All the same, it was a long day.

"Hello, fellow teenagers!" piped Zane, materializing next to Lloyd and his friends during lunch. Every jumped slightly, turning to look at him. He stood there, smiling blandly, holding a tray of nothing but French fries. No less than six little paper bins of French fries. And one single ketchup packet.

For a moment nobody moved or spoke. Zane continued to smile. The others began to sneak questioning glances at each other. Did he want to sit here? Nobody _wanted_ to sit with Lloyd Garmadon's gang.

After a long, awkward moment, Kai ventured to scoot over a bit, displacing Lloyd next to him. This was apparently just what Zane had been waiting for. Beaming, he settled himself and his fries in Kai's former spot.

"So, uh . . . " said Nya, after a moment.

Zane, oblivious to the awkward silence and the others' stares, began to munch on fries.

"So . . . you like fries, huh?" said Lloyd.

"Yes!" said Zane. Then he continued eating.

"Do you think he can actually taste them?" whispered Jay.

"I dunno. Do you think he even needs to eat?" Kai whispered back.

"Quit whispering and just ask him!" Nya scolded, whispering herself. The boys looked at her, horrified.

"No way! _You_ ask him!"

Nya balked, her bluff called. Meanwhile Zane continued to methodically dispose of fries.

"So . . . uh . . . " Lloyd tried again.

Zane didn't even look up. He finished his second tray of fries, then ate the ketchup packet. Whole.

Jay's mouth fell open. The others also stared, mildly horrified, or exchanged anxious glances, wondering if they should say something.

Zane just kept right on eating, unbothered. One by one the others gave up, utterly lost on how to approach him. Seeing that he was ignoring them anyway, staring smilingly into thin air as he ate, they drifted back to their previous conversation.

"Soooooo, that touchdown, though?" said Lloyd.

"The _best_ ," said Jay. "I mean, what is that for Riva, the sixth this season? I _told_ you guys that trading him was a good idea! But you didn't believe me!"

"I mean, can you blame us?" said Nya, laughing slightly. "I have _never_ seen anyone recover from a pulled knee like that."

"What do you expect, he's amazing," said Jay reverently. "I bet he could pull _both_ his knees and just keep right on playing."

"Ohhhhhh, _Jay_ , come on . . . "

"You need to just go ahead and produce a five-hour documentary." Kai gestured grandly as if displaying a title card in midair. " _The Life and Times of Juliano Riva._ "

"Ha, ha, ha. Five hours? Really? . . . I'd need at _least_ ten."

"Oh, I'm sorry. My bad, the five hours are just the part about how well he recovers from knee injuries."

"And three hours about that time he was pulled for a week due to concussion."

"Pff, at least four!"

"Did you know that sports injuries cause one hundred and forty-three deaths in Ninjago every year?" said Zane brightly.

The joking screeched to a halt. Lloyd and the others turned to look at Zane in bewildered silence.

"I think that's fascinating!" he said, and went back to eating fries.

* * *

It continued to be a long day. As Lloyd grabbed some books between classes, he waved at Kai and Nya down the hall, inviting them over for a quick chat. They waved back and started to come over, but then froze. Lloyd only had a second to be puzzled before he heard a familiar squeaking wheel behind him.

"Hello, fellow teenager!"

"Uhh . . . hey, Zane." Lloyd turned around, smiling gamely. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to 'hang out,' man," said Zane. "That is what friends do!"

"Uhhhh . . . " Lloyd cringed for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder at Kai and Nya, then looked at Zane, then back at the twins again.

"Uh, guys, can you just gimme one sec here?"

He took Zane by the shoulder and led him to a quiet corner.

"Look, Zane, I need to tell you something. This is gonna sound . . . weird, but . . . I think you should know."

"Of course! You can tell me anything," said Zane at once. "That is also what friends do!"

"Uh, yeah . . . " Lloyd cringed again. "That's kinda the thing, Zane. I know you're new here, so you don't know how stuff works, but . . . " He sighed. "You know who I am, right?"

"Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon," said Zane instantly. "Age 14. Address 125 Creak Street. Place of birth, deserted volcanic island. Social security number—"

"Woah, woah, _woah!_ " Lloyd held up his hands. "Okay, so you know my name. But do you know who my parents are?"

"Misako Garmadon and Lord Garmadon Garmadon," said Zane, just as instantly and unflinchingly as always. Lloyd blinked, surprised.

"So . . . you know?"

"Yes," said Zane. He studied Lloyd's pained expression. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, it's just . . . " Lloyd sighed again. "Like you said. My dad is _Lord Garmadon_. I'm his son. You . . . You don't want to be friends with me."

Zane blinked.

"Why?"

"It'll ruin your life," mumbled Lloyd, hanging his head. "Everyone is gonna hate you."

"Why?" said Zane again.

"Because . . . Because . . . Well, that's just how it _works._ " Lloyd spread his hands. "Makes sense, you know? My dad attacks Ninjago City all the time. Everyone hates him. I'm his son, so they hate me too. And they hate anyone who hangs around with me."

Zane's face scrunched in thought. He looked Lloyd up and down.

"But have you done anything wrong?"

"Well, I-I . . . " Lloyd stammered.

"Never mind! I'll check myself. Accessing city criminal records!" Zane beeped crisply, his eyes going blank. "Aha! Search results state that your criminal record is completely free of—no, wait."

Lloyd started. Zane's eyes came back into focus, and he gave Lloyd a glare.

"One incident of jaywalking in 2013."

"Oh." Lloyd relaxed, laughing ruefully. "Yeeeeah. Guilty as charged."

He didn't mention that he'd been in a whole knot of kids crossing the street at the time, but he'd been the only one the police paid attention to. The incident had blown up into a front-page news story and everything. Lloyd Garmadon: Crossing Over to His Villainous Career.

Meanwhile Zane was scratching his head.

"I _suppose_ jaywalking is a fairly petty crime," he said, after a moment. "The police log has thousands of such incidents. And you have not done anything seriously harmful."

"Maybe not." Lloyd laughed weakly. "That's not how it works, though."

"Why, of course it is!" said Zane. "You are innocent until proven guilty."

"I'm kinda not—"

"And it is important to give everyone the benefit of a doubt!"

"Zane, you don't need to—"

"So I will continue to be friends with you, unless and until I see a good reason not to!"

Zane finished, nodding self-righteously. Lloyd said nothing for a moment, looking at Zane with a wavery smile.

"Thanks, buddy," he said at last. "That's really cool of you. But just so you know, if you ever get tired of it, it's . . . okay to leave, all right? I don't wanna ruin your life."

"You will not," said Zane.

"Yeah." Lloyd hung his head, turning to follow Zane back to the others. "I wish."

* * *

It ended up being a long _week_. Although everyone got used to the "robot teenager manifests among us" angle, Zane just never ran out of ways to make everyone stare at him. He greeted strangers by name. He informed strangers their underwear was showing. He butted into conversations with completely unrelated comments.

"Hello friends!" he chirped on Tuesday morning, stumping up to Lloyd's clique.

"Hey, Zane," chorused the others half-heartedly.

"I cannot wait for the exam today! It will be so exciting!" said Zane. "I am going to finish 'cramming' right now!"

The others exchanged wry looks. All of them were aware that, one: Zane already knew every possible answer ever, and two: his idea of 'cramming' was to stare intensely at an open book, frowning deeply and occasionally announcing to the nearest available person how "screwed" he was. But not actually reading. If he got lucky, sometimes the book was at least related to the exam topic.

"See you in class!" called Zane.

"Wait for it . . . " muttered Jay.

"I am SO screwed."

The others stifled weary groans. Meanwhile Zane took four steps and went sprawling. He had started walking more, having realized that none of the other "normal teenagers" rolled around on heel wheels. But one step forward, three steps back: now the tape holding up his sweatpants had weakened, and his pants fell down and tripped him every five minutes or so. The fact that he wasn't at all embarrassed just made it more embarrassing for everyone else.

"Oh dear," he remarked, getting himself upright and completely ignoring some students jeering at him down the hall. "I really must do something. This could be hazardous!"

"I swear, one of these days I'm going to die of embarrassment _for_ him," moaned Kai, burying his face in his hands.

* * *

The exam was right before lunch. Instead of going straight to the cafeteria, most of the students gathered in the hallways anxiously comparing impressions. Lloyd and his friends were no exception.

"That was killer!" wailed Nya.

"Question 9, what did you put for Question 9?" said Jay, wringing his hands. "I just had _no clue._ "

"Neither did I! Did they even cover that? I just guessed randomly and put 'Mary, Queen of Scots.'"

"Kai, it was a _math exam._ "

"I panicked, okay?!"

"The answer was 7.25," put in Zane blandly.

Everyone stared at him for a second. Then there was a unanimous chorus of despairing groans.

"I am so hooped . . . " groaned Jay.

"So am I!" said Zane earnestly. "I am screwed."

He got a couple of exhausted glares.

* * *

That Friday, Lloyd, Cole, Jay, and the twins ganged up to get their homework done before the weekend. Or at least try to get _most_ of it done. The end-of-year workload was grueling.

Finding a place to hang out had been difficult lately. They used to go to that mini-mart across from the school, but then the place got shut down because apparently it had been a money-laundering front all along. Cole and Jay's houses were nearby, but neither of their parents knew Lloyd Garmadon was part of the equation, and it was probably better if it stayed that way. Kai and Nya lived pretty far away, and Lloyd's apartment was way too small. They tried a couple other mini-marts or diners, but it didn't work out. They were a mid-sized group of teenagers, one of them was _Lloyd Garmadon_ , and hey, they were about as given to roughhousing and being noisy as the next group of kids. Wherever they went people would look at them like they'd showed up toting tommies and kicking over mailboxes, and they'd always get asked to leave.

So eventually they started hanging out in a picnic shelter at a nearby park. It was going to be a problem once the weather got cold, but for now it was all right. Sure missed having snacks in easy reach, though.

"Two more weeks, guys," groaned Nya, sweeping dead leaves off the tabletop and dumping books in their place. "Two. More. Weeks. Then I never have to look at Ms. Smitherton's stupid homework _again_."

"Doesn't she teach Year 3 algebra as well?" said Jay thoughtlessly. Nya wadded up a sheet of paper and hurled it at his face.

"Well, she _does_ ," said Jay. For a second he grabbed up a piece of paper, intending to scrunch it up and retaliate. After a moment, though, he lost nerve and put it back down, blushing furiously. Meeting Nya on equal footing was forever beyond him. Lloyd nudged him, chuckling sympathetically.

The weather was nice, and despite the studious intent of the meeting, everyone was in a lazy mood. Kai crunched down the last bites of an apple, then spun the core on one finger and eyed Lloyd significantly.

"Applecore."

"Open the door," replied Lloyd, laughing.

"Who's your friend?"

"Him!"

" _Hey!_ " Cole was pulled from peacefully reading a magazine by an applecore bouncing off his head. He gave Kai and Lloyd a dirty look and chucked the magazine in their general direction.

"I'm trying to _study_ , guys."

"Rock and Roll Weekly?" teased Kai, retrieving the magazine. Cole gave him a look of righteous offense, then ceremoniously picked up a textbook, snapped it open, and plopped it in front of himself.

" _Happy?_ "

The others giggled.

"Not yet," said Jay. "You're not really studying. You didn't say you were screwed."

More giggles, this time muffled guiltily. Lloyd shook his head in reproach.

"Guys, come on."

"We know, we know." Jay sighed. Some of the others did too. The conversation lulled for a moment.

"So . . . question," said Nya. "Where the _heck_ did Zane get those new clothes?"

The others shook their heads, lost. Zane had showed up in school that day wearing slacks and a painfully corny retro sweater. A very nerdy outfit, but it was definitely clean and brand-new.

"I mean . . . I couldn't imagine him _stealing_ ," said Kai hesitantly.

"Me neither," said Nya. "But where would he get money to buy that stuff?"

"Maybe he has a job," said Cole wistfully.

" _Where?_ " said Nya. "Who's hiring robot teenagers?"

"Incredibly awkward robot teenagers," mumbled Kai.

" _Kai_ ," scolded Lloyd.

"Look, guys, how about we don't complain, and we don't ask how, and we don't ask where," said Jay. "Let's just be grateful his pants stay on now."

Various groans. Lloyd looked around at everyone sternly.

"Come onnnnn, bro, lay off us." Kai threw up his hands. "Yeah, Lloyd. We know. We're outcasts, he's an outcast. We should know how it feels and stuff. And we get that, and we're trying, _promise_. But just . . . gahhhhh. He makes it _really_ hard."

"Really, really hard." Cole rested his chin on his hands. "I don't want to make fun of him or anything, but every other thing he says makes me wanna slam my head into a wall."

"Especially the way he says it," said Kai, looking away. "Like . . . I know it's not his fault, but that smile is _creepy_."

"Yeah. And I mean . . . he's so stuck-up," said Jay, doodling awkwardly on the back of his homework. "He knows the answer to literally _everything_. Ms. Elver had to make him stop answering _every_ question in Chem class. And now whenever someone else answers, if they get it wrong, he just, like, boredly corrects them."

"Yeah," said Cole. "And kinda just _looks_ at them like, 'dude, why are you so stupid, stupid?'"

"Ughhh. He does that in History, too," said Kai.

"I mean, I don't think he's trying to be a jerk or anything . . . " said Lloyd hestitantly. "Maybe he just doesn't realize it's not cool."

"Mehhh . . . " The idea was met with apathy at best.

"And he's such a liar, too," said Kai, looking around guiltily as if confessing to some personal wrongdoing. "He must have mentioned his mom to me at least fifty times by now. And he looks at me all intense, like he's trying to mind-control me into believing him or something. I mean, heck. We were _there_ when he got pulled out of a freaking _wall_. Does he seriously think if he says it enough times he can convince me that didn't happen and he, like—came from parents?"

"Blehhhh. You wanna talk about parenthood?" Nya sank her head into her hands. "Health Class. You wanna know what he said to me in Health Class?"

"Oh no." The others cringed in anticipation.

"I mean, everyone already wants to die, it's _Health Class_ ," said Nya. "And yesterday, Mr. Vincosa was showing us drawings of the muscles, ya know? Like, pictures of bodies, but all the skin is gone. And there was a guy and a girl, and they had both the front and the back. And Zane's sitting next to me, and for WHATEVER reason, he suddenly gets really hung up on the muscles in the girl's butt being a different shape from the guy's butt. And then he just _keeps bringing it up_. And then he looks at me, _dead freakin' serious_ , and starts asking me what shape I'd want _my_ butt muscles to be. I mean! Looking back, I dunno _why_ I didn't just knock his block off with a three-ring binder."

She waved a gel pen grouchily. After a moment she looked around and gave an exasperated smile, rolling her eyes. "You can laugh."

Some of the others relaxed and muffled sheepish chuckles.

"No, but that's . . . that's creepy," conceded Jay. "You prob'ly should've knocked his block off."

"Egh. Next time," said Nya, smiling grimly.

"But you're seein' this, Lloyd?" said Kai. "This is what we're talking about. It's not like we just don't get his sense of humor or whatever, he's just—he's _weird_. Like, inappropriate weird."

"Weird weird," agreed Cole.

"Gahhh . . . " Lloyd chewed on his pencil eraser morosely. He was between a rock and a hard place now. "Guyyyys . . . Ugh. Yeah, it's definitely messed-up and he shouldn't be doing that, but he probably just doesn't get it. He's a _robot_. He's trying to learn how to be a normal teenager by copying stuff around him. Maybe he just picked up the idea that butts are supposed to be funny, and he doesn't realize it's like . . . creepy, if you do it wrong."

"Seeeeeeriously? You're defending _that?_ " said Kai, unimpressed.

"I'm not defending it!" groaned Lloyd. "I'm not saying he should get away with it, I'm just saying . . . I don't know, he doesn't _mean_ to be creepy. Maybe."

"Come on," said Cole. "He managed to figure out that he needed better clothes. He couldn't figure out this?"

"And besides, even if he doesn't mean it, so what?" said Nya. "Does that mean we have to just take it?"

"No, no, geez . . . " Lloyd sighed. "I don't know. Maybe we could just tell him when he does something out of line? Maybe he'd stop."

"Ehhh . . . maybe," said Nya, not sounding too thrilled.

The conversation creaked to an awkward halt. One by one they went back to their homework, some of them shaking their heads at the futility of it all. Lloyd sighed over his English notes. He didn't know what to do here. On one hand, he felt compelled to stick up for Zane, a fellow outcast. On the other hand, his friends had fair points. Zane was . . . a lot. And on still another hand, even if he thought they were being too harsh on some counts, well . . . it was scary, trying to disagree. He knew that if he pushed too hard, they'd eventually get fed up with him. And ticking off the only people in the world willing to be your friends was not the most enchanting prospect.

Maybe the new clothes were a good sign, he told himself hopefully. Maybe Zane was learning how to fit in.

* * *

Zane continued to not fit in. At first he kept tagging along with Lloyd's crew, glued on like a loyal hunting dog. Nya finally told him, very tactfully and not when Lloyd was around, that it was _normal_ to have more than one friend group. He took the advice, tried to befriend some other students. Couldn't understand why everyone gave him such dirty looks. Got a joke book, started telling absolutely soul-crushing jokes. Continued to regularly insist he was screwed. Had no luck with anyone, came back to Lloyd's crew.

They didn't know what to do with him. They wanted to be nice, really they did. They tried their best. But Zane was _exhausting._ Nya was repeatedly driven to whispered curses. Kai got physically ill with secondhand embarrassment so many times, he soon started to look queasy the moment Zane appeared on the scene.

Jay just flatly did not like him. At all. It probably had to do with Cole: the group's quietest teen had taken to lazily resting his elbow on Zane's shoulder whenever the robot was handy. He'd used to always lean on Jay. Maybe it was a kind of petty revenge, a last lingering bit of resentment that Jay had "ditched" him for Lloyd's friends and laughed when Cole got jealous. Or maybe he just preferred Zane's steel-frame sturdiness to Jay's willowy form. But either way, Cole made the switch, and Jay would never forgive Zane as long as he lived. He got downright passive-aggressive.

Lloyd tried the hardest, always listening to Zane's strange spiels with a strained but patient smile. Still, even he had to admit that hanging out with Zane took a toll on your soul. It was rough, sometimes, dealing with the usual morning of insults, cleaning the usual vulgar graffiti off his locker, and on top of that listening to Zane blithely explaining the etiology and evolving usage of the word "moron."

The school year finally crawled to an end. Everyone somehow stumbled through finals. Soon it was Friday, and school was ending next Wednesday. Most people were pretty happy about that . . . Lloyd and his friends less so. Without school, they would all be seeing each other a lot less. Kai and Nya's family's car had been repossessed, and they didn't have the pocket money for regular bus tickets. Koko had no car in the first place.

"Hey, we can do once or twice a month, though," Lloyd said that morning. "Right?"

"I guess . . . " said Jay, scuffing one foot.

Everyone kind of stood around looking miserable for a moment.

"Concern," said Zane, making a very painful facial expression. The others tried not to grimace.

"Hey, you know what?" said Kai at last. "If we're only gonna see each other a few times, we better make it good. As soon as school ends, let's make it a party!"

"Yeah!" Jay perked up. "We could go swimming!"

"And go to the boardwalk amusement park," chipped in Nya.

"And the mall," said Cole.

"Yeah! Everywhere!" Lloyd beamed. "Make it a start-of-the-summer to remember!"

"Prepare your eyeballs for FUN and good-time shenanigans!" intoned Zane. The others stopped and looked at him, inadvertently.

"Oh eff ess _em_ , Zane," muttered Nya.

* * *

Jay and Cole were heading to lunch that day when they heard a sharp _pssssst!_ They barely had time to look around, bewildered, before someone snatched Jay by the scarf and hauled him into an empty classroom. Cole blinked after him, then shrugged and followed.

Kai and Nya were in there, looking tense. Jay, aggrieved, was adjusting his scarf.

" _Guys_ ," said Nya. "We've gotta ditch the bot."

"Huh?"

"I don't know how," said Nya, "but that whole start-of-summer party we're gonna have? We can _not_ let him join us."

"I'm in!" said Jay instantly. After a second he realized Cole was giving him a mildly scandalized look. "Whaaaaat?"

Cole folded his arms wordlessly.

"Don't look at me, I told her it was a jerk move!" protested Kai.

"I know, I _know!_ " Nya dug her hands into her hair and began to pace a tight circle. "I _know_ we're supposed to be nice to him. I _know_ it's not his fault that being around him makes everyone wanna puke. But I can't take it anymore! He just ruins _everything._ He sucks all the joy out of life just by standing there. And if I'm only gonna see you guys a few times this entire summer, I want to actually have _fun_. I want to just hang out, and be happy, and do something cool, and not have to listen to freaking awful puns and creepy comments and—and—all this _cringe_."

"You said it!" Jay was very much on board. Cole and Kai both looked at the floor, guilty at how much they wanted to agree.

"This sounds like something out of a 'mean high school girls' story," said Kai miserably. "You know, where you're the only one not invited to the popular girl's birthday party?"

"Ughhhhhhhhhhh. I _know_ ," said Nya again, dragging her hands down her face. "But come on. Us? Popular? It's not like he's getting left out of the _cool_ group or anything. And besides! I'm not saying to actually _exclude_ him. We're not gonna tell him we don't want him around. We just have to . . . distract him, you know? Think of something else that's really fun for him to do. So he won't even realize he's missing out! Win-win, right?"

Jay nodded enthusiastically. Kai rubbed the back of his head, looking like he couldn't find a good argument anymore. Cole still looked conflicted.

"If this is such a win-win, how come Lloyd's not in on this?" he said. "Because you knew he'd never agree to it?"

"Because he's a freaking masochist," Nya shot back. "If he had to jump in lava to make someone else happy, he would do it. We're not actually gonna hurt Zane, at _all_ , but he would still be all, 'nooooooo, this is a huge weight on my conscience, we can't do that!' He just . . . he overdoes it sometimes, you know? He's a bleeding heart. That doesn't mean he's always right."

"Ugh . . . " Cole struggled to shore up his rapidly crumbling defenses.

"Come onnnnnnnn." Nya took him by the shoulders and went in for the kill. "No harm to Zane. Zero. He'll never even know. And all I'm asking for is _one_ day to just be happy and have fun with all my friends. Is that too much to ask?"

She gave Cole her best attempt at a pleading look. Cole groaned and pulled out of her hold, holding up his hands in defeat.

"All right. All right. Let's do it. We'll distract him."

"Awesome!" cheered Jay.

They all let out relieved breaths and exchanged giddy, conspiratorial, slightly terrified, oh-so-slightly-guilty grins.

"Okay then," said Kai at last. "So . . . how?"

* * *

They said nothing to Lloyd, of course. They trotted into the lunchroom looking as innocent as a basket of sleeping puppies.

"Hey guys!" Lloyd waved from the table he was sharing with Zane. "Where were ya?"

"Oh, we just got distracted," said Jay. "We were talking about that whole start-of-summer party!"

Which was true. Jay could be a fiend sometimes.

"Oh yeah!" Lloyd broke into a grin, completely oblivious. "Zane and I were just talking about that too, it is gonna be _so_ awesome."

The others exchanged sharp looks. Lloyd was unwittingly making this mission harder. Still, for now they would have to play along.

"Gonna be awesome all right," said Nya casually. "We need to plan this just right."

For a while they all argued whether weekends or weekdays were a better idea. Some thought the crowds on weekends would be annoying, others thought more fun stuff would be happening then.

"What about right on the summer solstice, guys?" said Kai. "The city always has a huge festival, there's a parade on Main Street, there's fireworks at night—that would be pretty sick!"

Some enthusiastic agreement from the others—except for Cole. He cleared his throat and looked down as if he'd suddenly remembered something embarrassing.

"Ahhh . . . Don't think I could make it," he mumbled.

"No?" Kai raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Ah, my . . . my parents are taking me camping," said Cole, ducking his head even lower. If he hadn't been Cole, he would definitely have been blushing. The others gave him slightly puzzled looks.

"Hey, that sounds awesome!" said Lloyd. "Relax, man, we can pick a different day."

Cole mumbled indistinctly, fiddling with his sandwich. He accidentally caught Jay's eye, and they both hastily looked away, trying to hide bittersweet smiles. Only Jay knew the real story: this was the very first time Cole was going on a family vacation. He was kinda lapsing back into "oh my gosh wait somebody _cares_ about me, they're being nice to me, what is this, what's happening, what the frick?" mode.

Obviously the others didn't know the whole "adopted" angle. They'd noticed that Cole got a little weird when talking about his family, but they'd assumed that he was just embarrassed to have something as uncool as _parents._ They tried to help him get past it.

"Super lucky, man," said Nya, munching a handful of chips. "Kai and I wanted to go camping too, but Dad says probably not. We're all going to the beach June 15, though."

"Okay, so we can't do the fifteenth either," said Lloyd, pulling out a notepad. "How about we start with that? Everyone tell me what days we _can't_ do the summer party, and we'll go from there."

The others started to list appointments and family engagements. Lloyd scribbled furiously, laughingly pleading for them to slow down. Zane listened silently with a slightly lost expression.

"Heyyyyy. What about you, Zane?" said Jay suddenly. "Are you doing anything with your parents this summer?"

Nya's head snapped up, her eyes glinting.

"Yeahhhhhh, Zane! Any fun outings planned?"

Cole and Kai's eyes widened as they also caught on. They all waited breathlessly for Zane to name a date, a date they could . . . _accidentally_ mix up with their summer party plans.

Meanwhile Zane shifted back a little, his expression growing strangely blank.

"No, we have no plans," he said. "My mom does not 'get out' much. So uncool."

"Ah, relax bud, we get it," said Lloyd. Meanwhile the others wilted, stymied.

"Well hey, there's always your dad, right?" said Nya solicitously. "Maybe you can do something fun with him, yeah?"

"No." Zane stared firmly into the middle distance.

"No?"

"I do not know where he is."

A moment of stunned silence.

"Wait a minute, your dad _left_ you? When?!" sputtered Kai. "What the heck man, you never said anything!"

"It was a very long time ago," said Zane, still expressionless. "I think he lost me. By accident. I have not seen him since."

"But you told us about him!" said Jay. "Remember? You were bragging that he's a rich businessman an' stuff."

"Yes, he is," said Zane. "I have seen his name in newspaper records. But his address is kept a tightly guarded secret, so I have not been able to find his location."

"You mean you've never seen your dad? For years?" There were marked external signs of Lloyd's heart breaking in sympathy.

"Only in old news footage," said Zane. "I . . . I think he does not know where to find me either. He must be looking for me." His tone was always a little off, but there was something even stranger about it now. "Or maybe he gave up, because it was so long ago. He probably does not know I am a normal teenager in high school now."

"Oh my _goooooooooosh._ Why didn't you ever say anything?!" said Nya. "This is nuts! We've gotta help you find him!"

"You cannot," said Zane dismissively. "If I cannot locate him, nobody could."

Normally Nya would have been offended, but now she breezed right past it.

"Don't be a doubter, Zane! Buddy! Just you wait, we have methods you wouldn't have thought of."

"Yeah! I mean, have you actually _asked_ anyone where he lives?" chipped in Jay.

"Well . . . no . . . " Zane's blank expression had morphed to a vaguely lost one again. He was looking around at the others as if he wasn't quite sure what was happening.

"There you go! He's a famous businessman, someone's bound to know where he lives," said Lloyd. "If we put our heads together, I bet we could find your dad in no time!"

"Let's do it this weekend!" agreed Kai.

"It's gonna be a quest!" cheered Jay.

Zane looked around at everyone again. They waited for him to say thank you, or at least express some excitement, but at last he only nodded.

"I suppose the odds of your success are not zero. Very well. We will search on the weekend."

"That's the spirit, buddy!" said Lloyd, laughing. Neither he nor Zane noticed the others exchanging "jackpot!" gestures across the table.

* * *

 **A/N: TFW a movie is so sparse on character development that you have to wring personality out of Cole's leaning habits . . .**

 **And _yes_ , his full name is Lord Garmadon Garmadon. How else do you explain the fact that it's passed down to Lloyd as a last name, but also used beside "Wu" like a first name? Heck, it even explains why they sing, "It's Garmadon, Garmadon!" in the song! XP**

 **Next chapter shouldn't take toooooooooooo long. Hopefully. No promises. ^_^''**


	11. Zane: If I'd Known, I'd Have Dusted

***Gesticulates in frustration* Zane. Zane, why did your final chapter end up being over 8,000 words long. Why did you make me write so much I had to split it into two chapters. Huh? Explain yourself, Mr. Roboto.**

 ***Sigh* I'm not a concise person, I guess. And I think the more I add on characters, the longer everything gets, because I have to make sure everyone gets properly featured. No wonder they didn't get enough development in the movie, yeesh. Six is a lot.**

 **Speaking of the movie, though! Just recently I was rewatching it (wanted to make sure I had all the details right for upcoming chapters), and for the first time I noticed something. During the credits, there's a brief shot where they picture all the main characters with what's presumably their favorite food. And Zane's is FRENCH FRIES. I swear I hadn't even known that! I guess he must just be a French-fry kinda guy.**

 **Of note, though, most of them have standard favorites like pizza or ice cream, but Jay's favorite food seems to be . . . starfish? And Wu's is apparently** ** _cats_** **. For Pete's sake.**

* * *

On Saturday morning, the teens shelled out some of their summer-party money for bus fare instead. They met at the picnic shelter wearing shorts, sunscreen, and backpacks full of maps and sandwiches. But not raincoats. Kai had still been pretty proud of himself for remembering the raincoats, and he'd gone ahead and told their parents this time. Then Nya overheard and made him leave those behind, because what kinda dork wore a _raincoat?_

"Phew!" Lloyd swiped a hand across his forehead. Summer hadn't hit yet, but the heat was already pretty oppressive. "I hope everyone packed lots of water!"

"I shoulda packed popsicles," groaned Kai.

"Come on guys." Nya was already striking out down the sidewalk, clapping her hands together grimly. "We only have one day, so let's do this thing!"

"Ready to find your dad, Zane?" Lloyd gave the robot a grin.

"I am actually very excited!" chattered Zane, all smiles himself. "This will be congenial! An adventure with freinds, through the lovely historic sectors of the city! I have downloaded several tour books—"

Cole, wordless but wide-eyed, grabbed Zane's sweater and pulled him back, just before he could rattle happily off the corner and right into the path of a bendy bus. Those beasts were no joke.

" _Caution!_ " The teens were briefly cast into shade as the bus wallowed around the corner, broadcasting an electronic female voice on external speakers. " _Bus is turning!_ "

"Thank you for the warning, that was very polite," called Zane. "Have a nice day!"

Jay said nothing, but he sighed heavily.

* * *

They started on the outskirts of one of the nicer neighborhoods, where the city melted gradually into suburbs. The plan was to work into fancier and fancier areas until they found Zane's dad, or they reached places too posh to reasonably be Zane's 28-year-old dad, or they got the police called on them. Whichever came first.

"So, you said he was in human resources at a paper company or something, right?" said Nya, rotating a map. After a moment she realized that the whoosh of Zane's hydraulic joints was no longer keeping pace with her. She looked around, puzzled, then turned back. So did the others. Zane was stationed several steps behind.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice full of reproof.

"We're . . . walkin'?" said Kai.

"You are entering the North Continental Ninjago Trainyard!" said Zane. "Public trespass on the grounds of a trainyard is strictly forbidden!"

"Ohhhhhh, that." Kai laughed. "Relax, man, this place has been closed for years! The whole train company shut down. It's not dangerous when there's no moving trains, everyone walks through here."

"Makes for great hide-an'-seek!" said Jay cheerfully, waving back at the jungle of abandoned, rusting train cars.

Zane was unbudged.

"Entering a trainyard is a health hazard," he intoned. "I shall proceed around the perimeter."

"Zaaaaaaaaaaane no, come on, that'll take you like an HOUR—" Nya groaned and dragged her hands down her face. "Well, there he goes."

"We'll meet you on the other side!" Lloyd shouted after the robot. Even _he_ , the most rule-paranoid out of the group, wasn't afraid to walk across this trainyard. It was pretty much public property by now.

"Well, at least we don't have to hurry," muttered Nya, as they crunched through ballast and hopped over warping rails. "We're gonna be wasting sooooooooo much time waiting for Zane on the other side of this thing."

"Ah, give him a break, Nya," said Lloyd resignedly. "Good for him that he doesn't listen to peer pressure, yanno?"

"And it'll all be worth it in the end!" chirped Jay. "Better to be a little annoyed now and not as much later, huh?"

"Right. One more day," said Nya, pinching the bridge of her nose. "One. More. Day."

"One more day?" Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "One more day of what?"

Nya's eyes snapped open. Kai and Jay gave her pained looks, wondering how they were going to get out of this one.

Turns out, they weren't. Lloyd's eyes were already roving as he thought.

"Is this . . . is this about . . . " He stopped dead between two railroad tracks, looking stunned. "Wait. This was never actually about finding Zane's dad at all, was it?"

The others exchanged meaningful looks, calculating their strategy.

"No, it was actually about finding his dad," said Nya at last. "That's all we wanna do."

"Yeah, so you can get rid of him!" Lloyd's voice rose in accusation. The others shushed him hastily. He lowered his voice, but continued to glare.

"I can't believe this. All this time I thought you had finally decided to be nice to Zane. And all along you were just sneaking around scheming how to ditch him?!"

"Don't you say _finally decided!_ " said Nya sharply, startling Lloyd back into silence. "We've done nothing _but_ try, Lloyd. Ever since he hatched out of that freaking wall, we all tried our _darnedest_ to be his friends. We were the only ones in the school who did that. But it just isn't possible."

"But—!" began Lloyd angrily. Nya put a hand over his mouth.

"Look, Lloyd. I know you want this to work," she said quietly. "But this isn't for real. Friendship is a two-way street, you know? When you're friends with someone, you both give a little, you both take a little. But Zane's not playing the game right. We're doing all the giving, and all we get is annoyed. That's not being friends."

She had removed her hand from Lloyd's mouth mid-speech, but he didn't even try to say anything now. He looked helplessly around at the others. They all hung their heads, silently admitting they were on Nya's side.

"She's right you know," mumbled Jay. "Being friends means you _like_ being around someone. Keeping them around just to be nice isn't the same thing."

"Yeah, and besides," added Kai. "This is for Zane's own good, too. What if he ever found out we don't really like him? How would he feel if he found out we're just pretending to be his friends out of—out of _pity?_ "

"But I . . . we . . . it . . . " Lloyd floundered.

"No, Lloyd," said Nya, still very quiet. "We don't like him."

"But—"

"And you don't like him either." Nya met his eyes steadily. "You just feel sorry for him."

"I . . . " Lloyd faltered for a moment, then let out a defeated groan and hung his head.

"I know, it sucks," said Kai, jamming his hands under the straps of his backpack glumly. "It's not even his fault. But . . . yeah."

"Yeah," agreed Cole.

Lloyd shook his head, wordlessly starting to walk again. You could tell from his face how much this whole situation ate at him.

"Hey, look on the positive side!" said Jay, trotting to keep up. "His dad's bound to like him. He'll probably put him in a private school or something. Maybe someone will like him there. And at least he'll have his dad, right?"

"And I bet his mom likes him too," said Kai. "It's not like he's alone in the world or anything."

"Get over it, ya bleeding heart," said Nya, ever tactful.

Lloyd only grimaced. He hated this deception . . . But he wasn't about to go ahead and reveal it, either. It would be impossible to do that without letting Zane know they'd tricked him, and by extension letting him know he wasn't wanted. Lloyd's hands were tied. He resolved to stay in touch with Zane after they found his dad, just to prove he hadn't joined this expedition just to ditch the robot.

The wait on the other side of the trainyard was long and awkward, though.

* * *

Several suburbs in, they were having no luck, had gotten a fair share of suspicious looks, and were already exhausted.

"Ugh," groaned Jay, pushing damp curls off his forehead. "I thought it would get _less_ hot without the sun out . . . "

"Can we get something cool?" said Kai plaintively, balancing his backpack on his head in a vain attempt to make shade.

"Only if you all feel like walking back home," said Nya sourly. "All we have is bus money."

Intense groans.

"Can we at least stop to eat?" Jay took up the chorus again.

"It's not even lunchtime yet—" Nya turned to say something else irritated, but was startled into silence by a sinister grumbling noise. She blinked. "Uhhhh—"

A patch of distant clouds lit up with a searing white light, bright enough to wash over the teenagers. A few seconds later there was another deep growl. Now that the clouds had everyone's attention, it was clear that the horizon was milky with pouring rain.

"Uh-oh . . . " said Kai.

"We gotta find shelter!" said Nya, turning with new fervor to her map.

"Actually, we are not in signficant danger," said Zane cheerfully. "Lightning tends to strike the tallest object in the area. In our current surroundings, I estimate our combined chance of a lightning injury to be eight-point-five times ten to the negative sixth percent!"

"Yeeeeeeah . . . " Nya squinted at him over the edge of the map. "That's still too much for me, thanks."

"And I don't wanna get wet! We have to wear these clothes all the way home!" protested Kai. "Gimme that map, sis."

"Oh, get your hands off it, I can find a hiding place just fine—"

"Guys, guys, don't fight—"

"Wait! I know!" said Zane all of a sudden. "Everyone listen! We can go to my house!"

That caught their attention.

"We can . . . what?" said Cole.

"My house is not far from here!" Zane beamed. "Oh, this is perfect. I have always wanted to have friends over! It will be a classic rainy day at home!"

"Uhhhhh . . . " Nya fumbled for an excuse. Of all the things they'd planned for today, being trapped at home with Zane was not one of them.

The others were hesitating too, but then another bolt of lighting struck, this one closer. The thunder came sooner, and louder.

"Yeah, let's go!" Lloyd stepped away from the group. "Lead the way, Zane."

Zane set off at a brisk walk, looking like he'd been selected grand marshall of the summer solstice parade. The others hurried after him. The thunder grew closer and closer. A warm wind sprang up, nibbling at their clothes and skin.

"Are we almost there?" called Kai anxiously.

At that moment giant cold blobs of water began to splatter from the sky, pelting dark spots into the sidewalk. Cole paused, looking upwards.

"Oh no—"

Then it really started to pour. Everyone yelped, throwing their arms over their heads or trying to shelter under their backpacks.

"Run Zane, run!" yelled Lloyd.

He took the advice. The others dashed after him, only to come up short in a weedy parking lot.

"Zane, what the—" Nya shouted over the roar of rain. The robot had headed straight for the abandoned business at the lot's edge. He tugged at a sheet of corrugated metal covering the doorway, pulling it back just far enough for a person to slip through. Then he looked back to the others as if expecting them to go in. The others exchanged dismayed looks.

"We couldn't still make it to your house?" said Jay hesitantly.

After a moment, though, they decided braving more rain wasn't worth it. One by one they slipped past the metal sheet, Zane going last.

Inside it was dark, smelling of mold and vermin. The teens moved gingerly, worried they would step on a rusty nail or a dead rat.

"I was _going_ to bring the raincoats, sis . . . "

"Oh, _shut up._ "

"We're trespassing," said Lloyd uneasily.

"No we are not," said Zane, ambling past them. "The building and the lot it stands on have no owner. After this technology store went out of business, there was a legal debate over the property which petered out to nothing, and all leases eventually expired. Nobody came to claim it. So I did!"

"Uhhhhhhhh . . . " Kai gaped. " _Tell_ me this isn't—"

"Friends, welcome to my home!" said Zane, turning back and throwing out his arms as if showing off a ballroom.

"It is." Kai gaped harder.

"Let me get us a little light," said Zane. He turned and stood on his toes, pushing at a slat of wood high up in the wall. It rotated on a single rusty nail, revealing a gap. Some watery gray light filtered in, along with some actual water. It was still pouring out there.

Now the teens could see around the abandoned space. There were chunks of ceiling plaster all over the floor, dust, collapsed walls and sections of roof creating skeletal piles of wood. Empty, rusty metal shelves leaned against each other, festooned in cobwebs.

"You _live_ here?" breathed Lloyd.

"Yes." Zane didn't seem to notice the others' shock. "And my mother."

"UM." The others stared, wondering what living human being with eyes would agree to live in here. Heck, what _non-living_ but sentient being would choose to stay in here? Besides Zane.

"Oh! I should introduce you," said Zane. "My mom will get mad if I bring friends over without introductions. Hey, Mom!"

The others looked around, wondering what madness would manifest next. Finally they found the direction of Zane's gaze and followed it. There was nobody there . . . Until on closer inspection, they saw something blinking by the wall.

"How are you doing, Mom? I brought some friends over!" said Zane. "They wanted to get out of the rain, hope you don't mind. Please meet Lloyd, Cole, Nya, Kai, and Jay."

He tapped at the side of a small device nestled next to the wall—from the looks of it, an old-fashioned dial-up modem. It made some very 90's internet noises.

"Mooooooooooom." Zane looked mildly horrified. "Not in front of them! Of course we won't wreck the house." He glanced back to the others sheepishly. "I'm sorry, please don't be insulted, friends. My mom is a little suspicious sometimes, but I promise she'll warm right up to you! You know how moms are."

The others were mute. They'd known Zane was odd, sure, but . . . _that_ lonely? _That_ lonely.

"Well, please make yourselves comfortable," said Zane, gesturing brightly around the dingy space. "I will get us a snack! You can watch some TV if you want to—" He darted over to an ancient photon-tube television clinging to one of the rusted shelves, and began to fiddle with the knobs. The TV hissed, and for a second the screen sparked. Then it gave an unhealthy flash and went dead. Frowning, Zane thumped on the side of the TV as if hoping to knock it back into life, but only succeeded in upsetting its precarious balance and sending it sliding to the floor. It crashed to his feet and died proper in a fountain of sparks.

For a second Zane faltered, stricken. After a second, though, he shook his head and looked to the others again. There was something just a little desperate about his smile.

"I, uh . . . I suppose there's nothing good on, right now. A-anyway . . . I'll get us some snacks! I'll be right back!"

His good cheer forcibly recovered, he zipped off into another room.

The others slowly began to transfer their stares from where Zane had disappeared, to other points in the abandoned building. Everywhere you could see little rearrangements in the wreckage, signs that Zane had desperately been trying to convert this rubble heap into a cozy TV-show home. There was general queasy silence, broken only by Kai sniffing abruptly and dashing a sleeve under his eyes.

"This is messed-up," said Cole heavily.

"Understatement of the _year,_ " said Lloyd. He eyed a leaking corner of the roof with a pained expression. "We gotta do something."

"We've gotta find his dad," said Nya. "Forget everything we were saying back there. Forget finding the guy to get Zane out of our hair, we've gotta find the guy to get Zane out of _this_."

"Yeah, this time—" Lloyd was interrupted by Zane's return.

"Sit down, everyone, sit down!" he chirped, carrying a six-pack of yogurt cups. "I have spoons and everything!"

The teens looked at each other, but finally moved to find some clear spaces on the dusty floor and gingerly settle down. Zane distributed the spoons and yogurts, and happily tucked into his own. Meanwhile the others uneasily studied the room-temperature, slightly-battered cups.

"These are overdue," murmured Jay. He, Kai, and Lloyd subtly found places to put the yogurts out of sight. Cole and Nya, however, gave it some thought and moved to open theirs.

"It's just yogurt, it keeps," said Nya, in response to Kai's alarmed look. Kai grimaced as he watched her digging in.

"Uhhhh, Zane . . . " he said, carefully. "Just wonderin' . . . Where did you get these yogurts anyway?"

"Oh, there are plenty where those came from," said Zane. "The grocery store down the street throws all its overdue food into this big dumpster."

" _Ptuh!_ " Nya rapidly disengaged her current mouthful of yogurt. Cole, who had been about to take his first bite, carefully lowered the spoon and put the yogurt down. The others surveyed Nya anxiously.

"Are you . . . gonna be okay? . . . " ventured Lloyd.

"Mmlgh." Nya had one hand clamped over her mouth, but with the other she doggedly waved him off. "Just gimme a sec. I've eaten worse."

Judging by the retching noise Kai made, that was true and he'd been a witness.

"What is the matter?" asked Zane, who had been watching all of this with concern. "Are they not good?"

"Uh . . . " The others exchanged hopeless looks. After a moment Cole sighed and erred on the side of honesty.

"Overdue dumpster food isn't really our thing, bud."

"We could get sick," added Lloyd gently.

" . . . Oh." Zane's face fell. "I . . . didn't realize. I am very sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," said Lloyd, realizing that Zane's facade of normalcy had just taken a major hit. "You didn't know. And we appreciate the thought, yanno?"

Zane said nothing, still looking disheartened.

"And it's not like we're going to starve!" said Nya, already recovered. "We did pack sandwiches, we should eat those before they go bad anyway!"

The others tried to offer their own reassurances, digging into their damp backpacks. Zane nodded, for once unable to recover his determined smile.

"I am glad you have something to eat, anyway. At least let me get us some plates."

He got up and went to the next room again. As soon as he left the others impaled themselves on a five-way despairing look.

"Oh my gawwwwwwwwwwwwwd," wailed Nya softly.

"Like I was saying," said Lloyd. "I'm with you guys this time. We really do need to find Zane's dad, because he can't go on living like _this_."

* * *

The rain soon petered out. The teens started walking again, trying to brush off the dust caking their damp clothes. Zane was still subdued.

"Seriously Zane, don't sweat it." Lloyd patted his shoulder. "Everyone has some rough patches."

"And it's not like we can blame ya." Nya had her hands sunk in her pockets. "It's not your fault you don't have any money."

"But I _did_ have money," said Zane forlornly. "I thought it did not make sense to spend it on food when I could have it for free; I spent my whole paycheck on the new clothes instead."

"Uhh . . . paycheck?" Cole looked envious. "You're getting a paycheck?"

"You didn't lie about your age, did you?" said Jay suspiciously.

"Of course not. Labor laws do not apply to robots," said Zane, somewhat absent-minded. The others exchanged puzzled looks, wondering if his acknowledgement of being a robot was a sign of declining mood or just part of the weird cognitive dissonance Zane somehow lived with.

Before anyone could ask, they were interrupted by a car pulling up next to them. The maroon SUV's wheels came dangerously near skidding as it stopped, and the motor cut out at the curbside. A blonde woman threw open the driver's side door, looking directly at them. The teens froze in panic.

"Uh-oh," squeaked Jay. From the looks of it, police call was the way this adventure was ending.

"Hold on just a second!" called the woman. Surprisingly, she didn't sound too hostile—only very bewildered. "I'm sorry, are you . . . " She looked Zane up and down. "You're a robot, aren't you?"

"Yes. And a normal teenager." Zane regarded her with equal curiosity. Then his eyes went distant as he began to dig through some internal database. Meanwhile the woman exclaimed in amazement.

"No, I've gotta be losing it. You're not the robot from the—"

"Matilda Jones!" Zane's eyes lit up and went wide. "You are the person I met at the science fair!"

"You're the robot I met at the science fair! I'm not crazy!" The woman clapped her hands together, beaming. "Oh my gosh, this is insane. You just showed up that one time and disappeared forever, I never thought I'd be seeing you again!"

"You remember me?" Zane looked bashful.

"Of course I do. You made . . . ah, well, you made an impression." The woman smiled sheepishly. "Ah, man, I still can't believe this. Is Dr. Julien doing all right?"

"We're actually looking for him!" Nya butted in.

"You're _looking_ for him?" Ms. Jones looked at Zane curiously. "He built you, and you don't know where he is?"

Zane shook his head.

"I was in a wall."

"You were in a . . . " Ms. Jones looked confused at first, but then her expression darkened. Her eyes drifted to some point above the teens' heads, roving as if sorting through possibilities. After a moment she shook her head and looked back to Zane with a resolute expression.

"All right. Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions, but any which way, if Casper's robot kid is still up and running, he oughta take responsibility. Tell you what, I can give you his address."

"You know where he lives?!" whooped Kai.

" _Do_ I." Ms. Jones snorted. "He only calls me up like clockwork every three months, to have an "old high school friends" chat, because yes he is _sooooooo_ over me, no need to impress me, just needs to rub in how successful he is and how much I'm _missing_ being married to another guy."

"Igh." Nya wrinkled her nose. A few of the guys looked uncomfortable as well. Zane, however, was swept up in the prospect of finally reuniting with his creator.

"Please, please give me the address!" he said, clasping his hands. "I would be forever grateful!"

"A'right, a'right, one second." Chuckling, Ms. Jones pulled out a notepad, scribbled an address, and handed it to Zane. "Here you go, kiddo. Good luck, okay? Tell him I sent you."

Zane received the paper reverently, looking overwhelmed.

"I do not know how to thank you—"

"Don't worry about it. Really. I just hope it goes well for you, okay?" Ms. Jones, wearing a strangely sad smile, stuck out her hand. Zane stared at it for a moment, then shook it eagerly. His eyes flickered shyly up to her face, glowing as if something that had been eating him for fourteen years had finally been laid to rest.

Ms. Jones' kids were sticking their heads out the windows of the car by now, some of them wailing "Mooooooom, we'll be late!" and others calling "who's that, Mommy?" With a quick wave to the other teens, Ms. Jones went back to her car and drove off. Zane was still standing where she'd left him, staring down at the scribbled address. The others crowded around eagerly to see.

"Where is that?" Kai and Nya squabbled over the map again.

"Oh, here! It's here!" cried Nya.

"It's not far, either!"

The twins whooped and high-fived each other, while the others cheered.

"We did it, Zane!" said Lloyd. "Let's go meet your dad!"

* * *

 **A/N: M** **uch thanks to fren ServineLuvr, who helped me past a stubborn plot point I couldn't figure out. :3**

 **Next chapter is already fully written, so probably going up next weekend at the latest!**


	12. Zane: Cruel to be Kind

They had no trouble finding the address. It was a pretty nice house, in a pretty nice neighborhood. Didn't seem like the level to have maids or anything, but up there.

"What do we do if he doesn't let us in?" whispered Jay.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," said Nya resolutely.

"What if he's a huge jerk or something? Ms. Jones said some funny stuff . . . "

"We'll cross _that_ bridge when we get to it too."

They hammered on the door and the doorbell for quite a while, until a voice finally came over the intercom telling them to go away. They pulled the "Matilda Jones sent us" card.

That news got them a bit of silence. For a second they worried the person on the other end of the line had just decided to ignore them, but after a long moment the voice came back.

"Matilda Jones? . . . She sent you? Why?"

"Because . . . because I was looking for you. It is me. Zane. Your—your son."

The group waited breathlessly in the fresh silence. After a long moment there was a distant murmur of "oh my God." Then, louder: "Zane?"

"Yes." Zane looked as close to passing out as a robot could get.

"Hold on just one second." The intercom cut out.

The teens trembled on the doorstep. It was happening. Zane was finally going to meet his father.

The man who opened the door wasn't someone you'd peg as a robot-building child genius. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a sports logo, and he noticeably hadn't shaved since Friday morning. He looked down at Zane with wide eyes.

"Be damned . . . " he whispered. "It's really you!"

"And it really is you," said Zane softly. He stared back up at his creator, seemingly overwhelmed. After a moment he searched for words. "Did you know, I—Matilda Jones. She wanted to shake hands now. I did it right this time."

"Did you, now?" Dr. Julien gave a bewildered laugh, rubbing his forehead. "Zane. Oh my gosh. Come in, okay? Come back to the study."

He stepped aside, motioning for Zane to go ahead. The other teens hesitated, but followed along without invitation. They filed into a cluttered little room littered with paperwork and business-psychology textbooks. A plump Shih Tzu lifted its head from a cushion to regard them disapprovingly.

"This is unbelievable," said Dr. Julien, walking around Zane to scrutinize him from every angle. "What have you been up to? Where did you get those clothes? How did you get ou—" He stopped himself, his eyes flickering away.

"I have so much to tell you." Zane looked like he was seriously considering tears. "I have been learning so much!"

"Really," murmured Dr. Julien. His brows knit as he chose his words. "So, uh . . . how long have you been . . . up and about?"

"Like two months," volunteered Nya. "And by the way, what's up with that? You wouldn't have any idea why we found Zane powered down and buried in a _wall_ , would you?"

Some of the others eyed her uneasily, worried by her accusatory tone. Dr. Julien laughed, however, shaking his head ruefully.

"I won't try to lie to you. I did some stupid things as a kid."

The teens froze. Something in Zane's expression shattered.

"Sir, uh . . . You're not—you're not saying _you_ put him in the wall, are you?" said Lloyd.

"Ahh . . . like I said. Stupid kid," said Dr. Julien.

"That was on purpose?" whispered Zane.

Dr. Julien shrugged sheepishly. Zane said nothing for a moment, looking around the room as if searching for understanding among the paperwork. Finally he turned apprehensive eyes back to his creator.

"Why?"

"I was immature, okay?" Dr. Julien was scruffing a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "I was a dumb high school kid who didn't know how to handle failure. But I've grown a lot since then! I've learned to embrace my mistakes and learn from them—not hide from them."

"Mistakes?"

"Well, yeah." Dr. Julien laughed awkwardly. "You were my first major failure. Looking back, I learned a lot from that. I learned I wasn't cut out for technology, for starters." He chuckled. "But I also learned that when you fail, you can find something else you're good at and keep pushing on. If I hadn't learned that, I might still be screwing around fiddling with robotics today. Instead I found my real niche and actually made something of myself!"

"You . . . you did not fail." Zane was floundering—you could tell the room was spinning around him. "I know I failed the science fair, but—but look at me now! I have greatly improved. I am a normal teenager! You succeeded."

"Buddy, no," Dr. Julien smiled wearily. "I don't have to delude myself to feel better anymore. I can accept reality. I mean, looking back, I was nuts—a fourteen-year-old dweeb who read some robotics books, thinking I could build a convincing robot teenager. And then I was dumb enough to be _shocked_ when I all I got was a clunky imitation. I mean, I had some ego!" He shook his head.

Zane had lost the power of speech. Nya finally regained hers.

"HEY." She nearly choked on her rage. "HEY. Don't you talk about our friend like that!"

Dr. Julien spared a curious glance for the teens, who were in various stages of shock and mute fury.

"Yeah, by the way, what's the story with you guys?" he said. "Did you adopt him or something?"

"He's our friend!" said Kai belligerently.

"Is he?" Dr. Julien gave a half-smile. "Damn, that's cute. You know, I hear a lot of complaints about your generation, but I don't buy 'em. It's really sweet that kids these days are so sensitive they even feel bad for robots. And you held out for two whole months before having enough?"

"Having _enough_ —" sputtered Nya. "What makes you think we—"

"Well, you brought him here to get him off your hands, didn't you?" said Dr. Julien.

Stunned silence.

"Ah, don't look at me like that!" Dr. Julien held up his hands. "I'm not trying to guilt-trip you! Like I said, I think it's really sweet that you put up with him for so long. And I totally can't blame you for finally drawing the line. Real life isn't like the movies, is it? It's easy to read a story and gush about the poor little lovable misfits who just need real friends who accept them. But it's not so easy in real life, when you have to actually _deal_ with them spouting off weird inappropriate nonsense every two minutes. Yeah?"

"I-inappropriate?" stammered Zane. "Am I . . . "

He looked to the others. They were silent, eyes downcast, generally ill-appearing. It was pretty clear Dr. Julien was hitting a little too close to home. Zane kept staring, lost for words.

"But yeah," said Dr. Julien. "Like I said, I've grown since freshman year. I understand about taking responsibility now. I built the kid, so he's my problem. Zane—you're welcome to stay."

Zane shifted his gaze from the teens to his creator. He looked between them a few times, his face empty of expression.

"I will not burden you," he finally said.

"Ah, no, it's the least I can do," said Dr. Julien. "I promise I don't resent you anymore, I'll take good care of you. Oil up those old joints, heck, maybe I remember enough mechanics for an upgrade or two—"

"Why?" Zane's voice was colder than the others had ever heard. "Do you want me so you can feel noble? So you can congratulate yourself for being so mature in accepting your miserable failure? Are you going to display me to visitors, so you can tell them inspiring stories about how you _recovered_ from building me?!"

A grinding metallic note wove into his voice, accompanied by ominous bursts of static. In the corner the Shih Tzu rose on its cushion and began to snarl. Dr. Julien was raising an eyebrow at Zane, seemingly puzzled at his reaction. Lloyd edged forward and held out a placating hand.

"Zane . . . " he began gently.

"NO!" Zane's voice was almost lost in static now. The Shih Tzu began to bark hysterically. The others flinched—they had never heard Zane shout, and they had never seen him angry before. After weeks of his painfully broad smile and unrelenting positivity, they weren't prepared for the fact that he even _could_ get angry.

"I will not burden you either," said Zane, back to his normal volume but still shrouded in white noise. "I never asked for your pity."

"No—"

Zane had already turned on his heel and strode out. The front door slammed behind him, leaving several frozen teenagers and a Shih Tzu still in full meltdown. Dr. Julien stepped over to soothe it.

"Argh. He took that hard," he remarked.

"You—you son of a _Skulkin_ —" hissed Nya.

"Hey. Watch it, missy," said Dr. Julien flatly. "You're in my house here, I can and should call the cops."

"Who's calling the cops?!" Nya was pretty young to be having a cardiovascular event, but she looked to be setting up for one all the same. "We oughta call Child Protective Services! What kind of a _sicko_ stands their kid up in front of them and tells them they're a failure? That nobody wants them around? That they were a _disappointment_ you almost didn't recover from—"

"He's not my kid, he's a subpar robot," said Dr. Julien wearily. "And besides. You're the ones who spent months lying to him, letting him believe he was normal, and then you got tired of doing that and decided to dump him on me. You sure you're in a position to call _me_ names?"

For a second Nya said nothing, her fists shaking at her sides. Kai was the only one with enough remaining presence of mind to do anything. He tugged anxiously at Nya's arm, and to the surprise of all, she responded. She blinked at him for a moment as if coming out of a fever trance, then suddenly whirled and stormed for the door. The others shook themselves sane as well and followed. Nobody so much as glanced back to Dr. Julien as they left.

" _Son of a Skulkin!_ " Nya went to pieces as soon as she was on the doorstep. "At least we _tried!_ At least we didn't pick on him like everyone else! At least we didn't straight-up tell him to his face—"

She choked off, tears of baffled rage glittering in her eyes.

"I don't know why, but I hate that guy, but I also kinda feel like I don't have any right to hate that guy," said Jay miserably.

"ArrrrRRRRRRGH." Nya sank her face into her hands.

"Let's smash his mailbox," suggested Cole blandly, already starting off.

"No!" yelped Jay, grabbing the back of his shirt.

"Heck yeah, mailbox!" Now Kai was frantically holding Nya back.

"Guys, guys, no!" Lloyd stepped into both Cole and Nya's path, holding up his hands. "I know, you're mad. We're all mad. Dr. Julien's a jerk and we should never have brought Zane here. But vandalizing his stuff is just gonna land us in trouble, and meanwhile not do _anything_ to help Zane. And right now, we should really be focusing on helping Zane."

"How?" said Cole. "He's just gonna think we pity him."

"Well then, what do we do, not help?" said Lloyd. "Just leave him?"

" . . . Point."

"All right," said Kai, breathing a sigh of relief at having something concrete to do. "Let's start looking."

* * *

They couldn't think of too many places to look; they didn't know Zane's habits outside of school. Luckily, the one place they did know turned out to be the right one.

"He's here," said Nya, looking up from the gap under the corrugated metal.

They all slipped back into the dilapidated tech store. Zane was sitting squarely in the middle of it, his arms wrapped around his legs and his forehead resting on his knees. He peeked up when he heard the others approaching, but when he saw them he hid his face again.

They stood around him for a moment, silent.

"We're sorry, Zane," said Kai quietly.

"It is not your fault," said Zane.

"It's not yours either."

Zane still didn't move. The others exchanged skittish glances, queasy with guilt. After a moment, Lloyd stepped forward and dropped to a crouch, holding out a hand.

"Zane, buddy. Hey. C'mon. Let's talk it out."

"You should leave," said Zane.

"We never wanted to hurt you," said Jay. "We didn't mean to. Honest."

"I understand." Some silence. "You should leave. I am malfunctioning."

"Zane, no, _no_." Lloyd shook Zane's arm, coaxing him to look up. "Don't listen to what that—that creep says. He didn't know what he was talking about."

"No." Zane finally shifted. He lifted his head, fixing Lloyd with a blank stare. It seemed close enough to his usual blank stare, but there was something exquisitely empty about it this time. "He was right. It all makes sense now. That was why nobody ever wanted to be around me. This is why you didn't want to be my friends. I cannot act right. I cannot think right. I do not fit in, do I? I am not normal." He looked around at the others. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You seemed so eager," said Nya. "Didn't wanna burst your bubble."

Zane looked down at his hands, turning them over slowly. Seemingly picking out, for the first time, all the ways they were different from human hands.

"So I am only a robot," he said. "A subpar robot. I tried so hard. I tried _so hard_ , and I still failed. I have never been normal. I will never be normal. And I . . . My design is poor. I am malfunctioning. I cannot make it stop."

"What's happening?" Lloyd searched Zane with his eyes, anxious. Was he about to self-destruct or something? "Malfunctioning how?"

"I do not know." Zane shut his eyes. "I feel things breaking down."

"Where?"

Zane made a generalizing gesture, shivering. Kai gave a muffled noise of pain and sank down to wrap his arms around the robot. Nobody was too startled, honestly. Trust Kai.

"Do not . . . " whispered Zane.

"No, Zane. _Zane._ " Lloyd abruptly grabbed the robot's shoulders. "Listen to me. Don't you see? This just _proves_ you're normal."

Zane didn't move.

"I'm not gonna lie to you. You don't look like everyone else," said Lloyd. "Maybe you don't act like everyone else. Or think like everyone else. But the stuff you _feel?_ That's the same as everyone. This right now? This is _normal._ This is how _normal_ teens react when they have a sucky dad."

"I . . . " Zane gave a ragged breath. "It feels . . . "

"I know, buddy," said Lloyd softly. "I know, it doesn't feel so good. But that's normal. It's totally normal."

He shifted to kneel closer to Zane, wrapping an arm around his shoulders from the side opposite Kai. Nya stepped over next, crouching in turn. She and Kai exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes, then she reached out to rest a hand on Zane's arm.

"I . . . I don't want to say that our dad actually _sucks_ ," she said, searching for words. "He's a great dad. He tries really hard. But he . . . has a lot of issues. Sometimes it feels like this. When you hafta lie awake at night and listen to him and Mom fighting because he got fired _again_. Or you come home every day scared there's gonna be a 'Foreclosed' sign. Or when you have to stop hanging out with the other kids because—because they _say things_ about your clothes being from the thrift store, it—" Her voice caught. "Yeah. It feels like this. That's normal."

Kai nodded, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Zane. Nearby Jay gave Cole a significant look. Cole only dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking his head slightly.

"Tell them," Jay whispered. Cole shook his head harder.

" _Tell them_ ," insisted Jay. Cole only shook his head harder still. After a moment, though, he stepped forward and sat down next to the growing huddle of teenagers.

"It sucks that you had to find out like _this_ ," he said. "But at least now you know."

He didn't offer any more. Jay wavered for a second, but at last sighed and sat down next to Zane too. He probably still didn't forgive the robot for stealing Cole's elbow, but he could look past that for now.

Zane shifted, then slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes.

"Will it feel like this forever?" he whispered.

"Not this bad. Not forever," said Lloyd. "Give it some time to wear off. We'll wait."

Zane shut his eyes again. After a moment he relaxed noticeably, letting his head loll over to rest on Lloyd's shoulder. The others sat with him, saying nothing. Waiting.

* * *

On Monday school resumed. The halls were in chaos; nobody could devote a blessed minute to actually thinking about school anymore. As far as they were concerned it was already Wednesday.

As usual, Lloyd's crew was an exception. They gathered quietly near Lloyd's locker and just stood there for a while, somber. Zane wasn't with them.

"Do you think he's coming?" said Jay.

"I don't know. Maybe he still feels cruddy," said Nya.

"Maybe he doesn't want to see us," said Kai, looking at his feet.

"Couldn't blame him," said Cole flatly. The others flinched.

"If he doesn't show, maybe during lunch we should—" Lloyd started. "Wait, there he is!"

Zane was indeed at his locker, pulling out textbooks. Lloyd glanced to the others, then headed over. They followed at a safe distance.

"Heyyy . . . Zane," began Lloyd carefully. The robot looked up, his expression neutral.

"Oh. Hello." He offered a smile that was not stiff enough to be polite, but not relaxed enough to be friendly either.

"How're you . . . " Lloyd trailed off, watching as Zane pulled more and more textbooks out of his locker. "Uhhh, Zane? Are you . . . taking those somewhere?"

"I am leaving," said Zane, beginning to stack textbooks methodically in his backpack. "If I am not a normal teenager, there is no reason for me to be in school. I can learn just as well online."

"All alone?" said Lloyd softly. Zane looked up and met his eyes for a moment, as if trying to understand the question. Finally he dropped his gaze again.

"You have already put up with me for two months."

"Zane, it's not like that—"

"You were very kind yesterday," continued Zane doggedly. "And I thank you. But if I am abnormal in 75% of the domains of life, and it is annoying to you, I would not wish for you to continue tolerating me just to make me feel better."

Lloyd and the others exchanged helpless looks, wondering how to navigate this. Finally Nya sighed.

"Listen, Zane. We're not gonna lie to you anymore. Yeah, you do some weird stuff. Yeah, it gets annoying sometimes. But it's not all _your_ fault."

Zane eyed her dubiously.

"We were kinda looking at it from the results side," continued Nya, somewhat haltingly. "We thought that we were putting in all the work to be your friends, and you weren't even trying at all. But—all this stuff about trying to be normal—I guess you're doing that because you want to be a good friend, aren't you?"

Zane was looking away now, picking at the spine of a textbook.

"I . . . would like to be someone who _deserves_ friends," he said at last. "A normal teenager who is not annoying to be with. But I cannot seem to succeed."

"But that's the thing," said Nya. "We thought— _I_ thought—that just because you weren't succeeding at the whole normal thing, that meant you weren't trying. But you _are_ trying. You're probably working harder than all of us put together. And it's not fair to care more about your results than about how hard you try. I was . . . " She faltered, grimacing. "I guess I was . . . "

"Wrong?" offered Jay, honestly believing she'd forgotten the word.

" _Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh._ " Nya gave him a deeply unappreciative look. Jay cringed, while Cole shook his head, unimpressed.

"Speaking of," he offered, jabbing a thumb at the others. "It's not like you have much to worry about. These guys are all pretty annoying to be friends with too."

" _Hey!_ "

"And kind of a stretch to call them normal," continued Cole drily.

"Would you listen to this guy?!" Kai shoved him, grinning. "Ignore him, Zane, he's the worst of all of us. _Ow_ , Cole, hey!"

"Ah, ignore both of them." Lloyd grinned tiredly at Zane, who was watching the playful shoving match with confusion and concern. "They're all the worst. The point is, we can deal with a lot of annoying as long as we know you care. And you do, right?"

Zane didn't reply for a while, shifting an armload of textbooks back and forth.

"What about worse than annoying?" he said at last. "He said I was inappropriate as well."

"We could try help you with that, if you want," said Lloyd. "We could tell you if you really cross a line."

Zane was quiet again. He seemed to be searching for some other counter-arguments.

"C'mon, Zane," coaxed Lloyd. "It's okay. We can try again. We know where you're coming from now, we can be more honest, we can make this work better this time. You don't have to be alone."

Zane was silent a moment more. Finally he drew in a breath.

"Could I—"

He was cut off by the bell ringing for the start of class. Everyone jumped violently. Around them, the last few students began straggling off, none too hasty on this third-to-last day. The small knot of teenagers stood frozen for a few seconds, caught in suspense. Zane slumped, having lost all nerve with the interruption.

"I—" he stammered.

The others exchanged glances, then through some wordless agreement pounced on Zane to scruff up his hair or sock his arm. (Except Kai, who of course preferred the tackle-glomp.)

"You're stuck with us," said Nya. "Come on, we're late!"

* * *

Zane didn't come to lunch—he said he had to take care of something. He met the others again after school let out for the day, though.

"You comin' to the picnic place for homework?" said Kai.

"I would love to," said Zane shyly. "My apologies for missing lunch. I wanted to bring you something. To thank you."

He held out a plastic-rubber container. Lloyd took it and popped off the lid.

"Woah, Zane!"

It was stacked full of brownies, their tops glazed with chocolate drizzles.

"And I promise these are not from a dumpster," said Zane, smiling sheepishly. "I made them myself."

"Uhhh . . . you _made_ them?" Nya blinked, thinking back to the tumbledown tech store. "Where'd you get an oven?"

"Sweety's," said Zane. He looked around at the others' even more confused faces. "The bakery where I work? I just got promoted from delivery boy to assistant baker. Ms. Sweety says if I do well, I may become a chief baker someday. This is my very first practice batch, so Ms. Sweety said I could have it!"

The teens glanced at each other, but finally decided there wasn't _that_ much that could go wrong in a controlled bakery setting. At worst the brownies wouldn't taste so good. Shrugging, they tucked in one by one.

"Oh _man_ ," said Kai.

"Are they all right?" asked Zane.

"Zane," said Cole, reaching for a second brownie. "Remember us when you get to owning your own bakery, 'kay?"

Zane knit his brows, initially puzzled, but after a few minutes deciphered the meaning. As far as the others could tell, he continued beaming straight over into tomorrow.

* * *

 **A/N: Extra background: don't worry, he doesn't keep living in that wrecked tech store. He got to thinking about honesty and stuff after meeting Dr. Julien, so that night he decided he had to tell Ms. Sweety that he wasn't actually a normal human teenager. Just in case she hadn't realized. That got her asking some questions, and when she found out where he was living she offered him an apprenticeship, board included. (Hence the promotion.) And he gets to bring his mom! He does have to work some unusual hours, baking from midnight to dawn and then going straight to school, but as a robot he doesn't mind** — **no sleep needed!  
**

 **But at any rate, now we have the whole team together. You know what that means . . . Next chapter is NINJA TIIIIIIIMMMMMME! :D**


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